


Sands of Destiny

by amidtheflowers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders, Marauders era, Time Turner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 229,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Knockturn Alley," Hermione breathed, and a rush of relief flooded inside of her. At least she didn't end up amongst cavemen or dinosaurs. Time-turner fic. Sirius Black falls behind the veil, the time-turners are destroyed, and a Gryffindor is going to change history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beyond the Veil Again

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins at the end of Order of the Phoenix when Harry and the gang go down to the Ministry of Magic. The rest is self-explanatory.
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and its respective characters belong to J.K. Rowling. This plot line, however, belongs to me.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note 5/6/2017** : Guys. GUYS. Something truly wonderful and unbelievable happened. I'm still sitting here, stunned. 
> 
> You guys nominated this, and you guys voted for it. I had no idea about this or that it would actually win anything. Thank you SO MUCH! I love you all and I hope you enjoy the story. <3

**Chapter 1**

_Beyond The Veil Again_

The last thing Hermione saw was a wand pointed in her direction as a jet of purple flames hit her chest.

"Oh," she breathed, and her eyes rolled in the back of her head. Blackness swarmed around her, engulfing her in pure darkness. She flailed wildly, her mind pushing for consciousness to break through.

She could vaguely hear Harry's voice penetrating her skull.

"Hermione, wake up…."

She tried, forcing her mind out of the fog, but was helpless.

"Dat's a pulse, Harry, I'b sure id is…."

"She's alive?"

"Yeah, I dink so…."

And that was all.

She did not know how long she swam in the darkness, did not know when she regained the ability to move. But when she finally cracked her eyes open, screams and wretched shouts filled her ears.

"SIRIUS!" she heard a voice bellow, and she grew frightened at the overwhelming amount of emotion behind it. "SIRIUS!"

Horror began bubbling inside of her when she recognized them to be Harry's hoarse screams. Her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, and she groaned. Her entire body was stiff, a burning sensation still on her chest where the Death Eater had shot his curse at her.

Hermione struggled to sit up, and saw a pair of legs beside her head, but they were jittering uncontrollably. She looked up to see Neville standing next to her, his nose bleeding profusely and his wand at the ready. He noticed that she was awake and relief flooded his face.

"Dank God you're awake," Neville said, but his eyes trained back to the scene before him.

"HE—IS—NOT—DEAD!" roared Harry. "SIRIUS!"

Hermione scrambled to her feet and whipped out her wand. " _Finite_ ," she said quickly, and Neville's dancing legs ceased.

"Dank you," he said gratefully, wiping the blood from his nose. Just then she saw Lupin dragging Harry with him forcefully as anger reflected in Harry's green eyes. Hermione's eyes whipped to the archway where the silvery veil fluttered, where Harry and Lupin had stood only moments ago, and sadness dawned on her

"No," she whispered.

Lupin looked over at her, realizing she was there. "Are you alright Hermione?"

"Y-yes," she answered, "I'm alright." Her eyes slid to Harry, who seemed immortally distraught.

"Lets—let's find the others," Lupin forced out, as if every word was inflicting pain on him. "Neville, where is everyone?"

Neville explained where Luna, Ginny, and Ron were, and Hermione was puzzled why she was left unconscious amidst a battle scene next to Neville, but shook her head and thought nothing of it. Determination set in her face.

This needed to be fixed.

In the corner of her eye she saw the swish of Dumbledore's cloak, and the form of Bellatrix Lestrange who had bolted into a run, bounding up the staircase.

"Harry—no!" cried Lupin, but it was too late. Harry had wrenched free of his grip and followed Bellatrix up the stairs.

Panic began settling inside Hermione. She looked down at her hands, her wand shaking slightly in her tight grip. Sirius Black was dead. Harry's screams echoed in her mind, remembering the rage in his body when he wrenched out of Lupin's hold and ran after Bellatrix Lestrange. An image of Sirius's lazy smile flashed in her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut.

This needed to be fixed.

"Herbione, where are you going?" Neville shouted, trailing fast behind her. She paused and pointed her wand to Neville's nose, and his eyes went wide. Muttering a spell, she watched as his face cleared back to normal.

"Thanks," he whispered again, gingerly touching his nose.

"You need to stay here," Hermione commanded. "Look after Ron and the others, keep the Death Eaters off from my trail if you can."

Neville nodded unsurely. "Where are you going?" But Hermione did not hear as she whirled around and went up the staircase, but where Harry had followed after Bellatrix, Hermione darted somewhere else.

Turn…down…another corner…

She barely flinched when a Death Eater appeared before her, and she hurled a curse his way, watching in satisfaction as he sank to the floor.

Just a bit further.

She stopped, breathing in deeply.

Hermione knew she was stretching in vain hope, that there was a fraction of a chance that any of this could be fixed,  _truly_ fixed, none the less by her. But she had to hope. She had to believe things could change.

She entered the room cautiously. It was overrun with wreckage from their previous battle; hundreds of shelves that once towered to the ceiling were now knocked over, shards of glass and debris littering the floor. There didn't seem to be any Death Eaters anymore, not even unconscious ones; they were likely still fighting the rest of the Order. Her eyes scanned the room frantically as her head buzzed with adrenaline. This could be it. She could change it. She could prevent tonight, prevent the horrors that had happened.

_But how would you change it?_ a voice whispered in her mind.  _What could you do?_

Hermione sucked in a breath as she caught a glimmer on the floor. Her shoes squelched painfully as she darted towards it and she dropped to her knees, pushing aside bits and pieces of rubbish. She was vaguely aware of something stinging her knee, but pushed the thought aside.

Her eyes fell to the jumbled mess she'd been digging for, and her heart spiraled in despair.

"No!" she said vehemently, gripping her hair in anger. She'd already known, of course, but the reality of it never settled with her.

All of the Time-Turners were irreversibly destroyed.

The cabinet in which they lay in was repairing then destroying itself repeatedly. Hermione could see through the cabinet drawer the Time-Turners whizzing out of control, though she could not detect where the sand was. For her to reach into it would be far too dangerous. Either way, she knew that the sand had escaped from the time-turning device, as the ones she could see through the cabinet no longer held sand in their hourglasses. As if to further the proof, an empty one lay by her knees.

She traced the chain of the pendant delicately, tears welling in her eyes, though it took much restraint to prevent them from falling. Taking a steadying breath, she continued to watch with sadness as the cabinet repaired and destroyed itself in an interminable dance.

She did not know how long she sat there until a gentle hand brushed against her shoulder. She jumped and turned around, only to see the kind blue eyes of Dumbledore.

"Professor…"

"It is over," Dumbledore stated, his blue eyes staring sadly down at her. He offered her a hand and she stood up slowly from the broken Time-Turners. "At least, for now."

"Harry…the others...?"

"All returned to Hogwarts. I will be meeting with Harry soon, in fact. Unsurprisingly, Voldemort has fled yet again, and the Ministry of Magic is..." he shook his head. He said all of this very calmly, and she wondered why he was bothering to explain to her at all. "You are injured, Miss Granger."

She looked down distractedly and saw a shard embedded in her knee. Dumbledore flicked his wand gently and the shard zoomed out of sight, and with another wave the skin that was torn healed, but Hermione knew that underneath the blood caked on her knee, a visible scar would remain.

Dumbledore looked away as he closed his eyes. "Miss Granger," he said. "There may come a time when I will ask something of you, something you must do to protect the ones you love. Would you be willing to do it?"

"What? I mean…I don't really understand." Hermione looked at the Headmaster in confusion as he continued to face away from her. He jingled something in his cloak lightly, but then turned around to gaze directly at her.

"Dark times are not ahead of us anymore, Miss Granger, they are here. Within these walls, and spreading like flames outside. It will infiltrate Hogwarts, and it will test us to the breaking point. I am afraid, as I have been for quite some time, that you and your friends will reach that point in the near future." He looked at her gravely. "There may come a day when I will ask you of something, and it will be your choice whether to accept or not."

Hermione nodded. She still didn't fully understand what was going on, but Dumbledore raised his hand, and she hesitantly took it. "To Hogwarts, now. I'm afraid I am late for a meeting with a young Mr. Potter."

He gripped her fingers tightly and they Apparated back to Hogwarts' grounds. She looked up when Dumbledore turned to her with twinkling eyes. "Do not give up hope just yet, Miss Granger. All shall be well in time."

**xxx**

And in time, much would change.

Hermione's sixth year began, and she worked diligently. Her concern for Harry grew even more as he would often disappear with Dumbledore, including today. Even Ron had stopped becoming a prominent presence in her life (if not an irritable wart that she found herself still battling fond feelings for), as he had entered-and sustained-a relationship with Lavender Brown.

So much had happened, and yet nothing had happened at all.

It was a lush June evening when Hermione decided to quit the common room start early on her prefect rounds. Thoughts swirled in her mind; images of Harry, his eyes saddened; Ron's beaming smile after winning another match of Wizard's Chess; Ginny's raucous laughter as she linked her arms with Fred and George's, pelting dungbombs down the dungeons...

She could feel it in her bones, curling into her skin and wrapping around her abdomen like a vice. Things were  _changing_ , something had felt off throughout the entirety of the year. She growled when she couldn't discern why she felt this way, and increased her pace down the halls.

A  _pop!_  resounded on the walls, and Hermione had her wand at the ready instantly. Her eyes scoured the hallway. She turned to her left when a shriek left her mouth.

"Professor!" she squeaked and lowered her wand immediately upon meeting a pair of twinkling blue eyes. "I-I thought you were with Harry? Is he here?" she hastily stuffed her wand back in her pocket.

Dumbledore smiled brightly. "No, I'm afraid he's still with me. Well, the  _present_  me. Though I am also the present me, but won't be for long. Would you come to my office please, Miss Granger?"

Hermione stared at him in confusion and nodded her head. Dumbledore smiled, leading her to the winged gargoyle that led to his office.

" _Licorice wand_ ," he said lightly, and the gargoyle sprang to life, leading the pair to a staircase. Once they reached his office, Hermione stood unsurely near his desk as Dumbledore sat in his armchair.

"Please Miss Granger, take a seat," Dumbledore said kindly, motioning to the seat opposite him. Obediently, she sat down.

They were quiet for a moment when Hermione cleared her throat. "Professor, why did you say Harry was—er—still with you, only not with you?"

Dumbledore nodded with a small smile. "It is because, my dear girl, I have broken the most detrimental rule of the universe by sitting here before you."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly, panic racing her heart. "I don't understand."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and leaned against the mahogany desk. "The night that Sirius Black died, you had gone back to the Department of Mysteries, yes?" Hermione nodded, not sure where he was going with this. Dumbledore smiled. "You went looking for the Time-Turners stored there, but they had already been destroyed in the cabinet."

"Yes," Hermione affirmed slowly, but then slowly her eyes grew wide. "Professor, did you—"

"No," Dumbledore said quietly, and Hermione wilted in disappointment. "I do not wish for you needlessly raise your hopes on that matter, Miss Granger. The Time-Turners in the Ministry of Magic are irreparably gone from our world. But that does not mean there is no hope."

Hermione nodded and kept silent. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, before opening them again and gazing at her sadly.

"In your third year, Miss Granger, you used a Time-Turner to manage the extra classes you had signed up for. Naturally, you know how it works by now. You understand the consequences of having your past self come in contact with your present self. The outcome of such a thing would be astronomical.

"However, the Time-Turner's properties were very limited. Its time-traveling abilities were for the immediate past, which was all the sands of time allowed. The night you helped Sirius Black escape with Buckbeak, you turned the device three times to go back three hours. When you returned to the present—which was when you turned back time to rescue Sirius—your past self vanished and you became the present once more. And the cycle repeats itself."

Dumbledore paused, waiting for Hermione to let the information sink in. She already knew all of this, as it had been explained to her when Professor McGonagall gave her the Time-Turner in her third year. After a moment, Dumbledore continued.

"However, that is not the only kind of Time-Turner in existence."

Hermione blinked. "What do you mean?"

"There are the sands of time, which were used inside of your Time-Turner. And then, there are the sands of destiny, which historically have never been found."

Hermione's impatience increased. "Professor, that is one of the oldest myths of witchcraft, and no such object has ever been proven to exist. What use is there of telling me of something that is impossible?"

"Because, my dear girl, such a device hasn't been found because  _no_   _one went looking for it_. The little grains of sand with such properties made one, and only one, Time-Turner. The sands of time allow a person to go back, at most, a day. But the sands of destiny can  _change history._ "

"But we did change history," Hermione interjected. "We saved Buckbeak from his death sentence when he ought to have been killed. We changed that. We saved Sirius from returning to Azkaban."

"You had done what your future had already created," Dumbledore said with excitement in his eyes. "Hermione, I am sitting here because I have damaged and broken the laws of nature, and will be thusly punished. I shall die tonight, as it had been predicted, and as I have recently discovered." Hermione's mouth opened in astonishment, but Dumbledore continued relentlessly. "I have a mission for you, Hermione Granger, one that I am deeply remorseful to ask of you. Exactly one year ago I warned you of this. Do you remember?"

How could she forget? It was only the single-most mystifying conversation she'd ever had with the Headmaster.

"Professor…?" Hermione looked with apprehension as Dumbledore reached in the back of his neck and pulled off a necklace with a round pendant dangling gently. With utmost care, Dumbledore took her hand and placed the pendant on her palm.

A shock went through her when she gazed at it. It was a Time-Turner…only the sand was not golden as it should have been.

It was a deep, ruby red.

Her hand quivered, and fear coursed through her. Frightened eyes met sad blue ones. She had read about such an object in passing, only once, and not in great detail. But the fact that it actually existed, that Dumbledore had it in his possession…

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said shakily, "you used this tonight, didn't you."

"I did," he replied solemnly. "And though I regret it, there is a much larger picture to focus on. I have broken the rules of the universe by attempting to return to the present time…speaking of which, I don't think I'll be sitting here much longer. My aura, as Professor Trelawney has formidably said to me over the years, is passing quickly."

She began shaking her head, but Dumbledore patted her shoulder gently. "Do not be afraid, my dear Hermione."

"How could I not?" she said with almost a shrill voice.

"Because you have the power to save everyone you care about," Dumbledore replied without hesitance. "Because I have seen a glimpse of the future from which I have travelled, and it is far grimmer than I thought."

He told her of the horcruxes, which he and Harry had been hunting for this year; he told her of the battle at Hogwarts, of Voldemort killing not only Voldemort's soul that was embedded in Harry but quickly killing Harry as well wandlessly. He told her of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, and all the other casualties of the war. He told her of the rise of the Death Eaters on the Ministry of Magic, and the horrors that plagued the Wizarding world in what should have been Hermione's seventh year of Hogwarts.

Hermione sat back in her seat, her mind exhausted and her eyes tear-filled. But a new determination set her jaw, and she gazed at Dumbledore directly.

"Tell me what I have to do."

"I have not asked anything of you yet, Miss Granger."

"I know. You don't need to."

He gazed at her sadly. "You brave, brave girl."

She shook her head. "I would do anything to save the people that I love."

Dumbledore grew serious. "The user of this Time-Turner has only two chances. What makes this Time-Turner different than the ones that have been destroyed is that when you turn a knob, you do not turn hours, but years. When you turn another, you may go decades. Another, centuries. You  _must_  be careful when using it, and precision is of utmost importance. You may very well end up in a time when humanity did not exist yet. And that would be most problematic.

"One of the most crucial laws of this device, as you may have already guessed, is that once you turn back time, you are there permanently. You may never return to the present. Your presence in a certain part of history changes its course dramatically. And  _if_ you are ever to attempt to return to the present, then the paradox is created between you and your present self, and both forms die immediately."

A lump formed in Hermione's throat, but she nodded. "I suppose that is what you did tonight."

He smiled brightly. "Yes, I am afraid it is. I was the selfish old man and decided to peak into the future, rather than do what was right. For that, I beg you for forgiveness."

"No," she said vehemently, "there is nothing to forgive. I will do as you say, Professor Dumbledore. It has to be done."

He nodded with remorse. "You truly are the cleverest witch of your age." He removed his half-moon glasses and peered at her thoughtfully. "I believe three turns should still do it."

Her eyes grew wide with understanding and she gazed at the time turner still in her hand. The red sand inside made her stomach turn into a knot, and there were several knobs on this Time-Turner. The possibilities were infinite.

"Should—should I take something with me?" she asked hesitantly.

His eyes twinkled, but this time it was not from the light. "That is a remarkable idea, Hermione, and you should heed it. Though, even I do not know the consequences if you were to bring part of the present to the past. Nevertheless…if the myth is true, you  _will_  be given your own life in the past you are going to."

She nodded carefully, and stood.

"Goodbye, Professor," she said quietly, eyes glistening. But when she looked up, he was no longer there.

Tears fell on their own accord at his disappearance.  _Alone. I am utterly alone_.

She quickly swiped her eyes and ran up the staircase until she reached the seventh floor.

"Dilligrout!" she nearly shouted at the Fat Lady, and the door swung open. She clambered inside and crossed the common room. She paused at Ron's sleeping form on the sofa, and gently touched her fingertips to his cheek. Then, she ran up to the girls' dormitory.

Once reaching her bed, she began by taking out her purse and swinging her wand fervently in the air, casting and Undetectable Extension Charm on the bag. Once completed, she began going through her things—her copy of  _Hogwarts, A History_ , Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense against the Dark Arts were quickly thrown in, along with her clothes, quills, ink bottles, and several other textbooks she deemed important. She scoured her school trunk, and her heart stopped when she found the small leather-bound photograph book she had made over the years, filled with pictures of Hermione with Harry and Ron, among with pictures of the Order members and nearly everyone she loved. With a small hesitation, she put it inside as well.

Her hand grasped the Time-Turner once again, and stared at it anxiously.

Her eyes closed and a shaky breath escaped her lips. "Goodbye Harry. Goodbye Ron." Her lower lip quivered, and she whispered, "Mum, Dad..."

Carefully, she draped the chain of the Time-Turner around her neck. She grasped the pendant, and carefully grabbed one of the knobs.

_One…_

She faintly heard a cackle that strikingly resembled Bellatrix Lestrange. The Death Eaters had invaded Hogwarts, Hermione realized. She grabbed another knob.

_Two…_

A single tear slid down her cheek.

_Three…_

The dormitory door slammed open and Hermione jumped, her finger slipping slightly on one of the knobs.

"No!" Hermione cried out desperately, but the deed was already done. She had slipped and moved the knob when she shouldn't have. Angrily she looked up and saw Lavender Brown staring at her

"I..." Lavender's voice faltered when she saw the chain around Hermione's neck.

White-hot, blinding rage overtook her body as she whipped out her wand without a single thought and jinxed her. Lavender fell unconscious immediately, but Hermione disappeared before she could watch her hit the ground.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 7/23/15


	2. The Boy On the Corner

**Chapter 2**

_The Boy on the Corner_

Hermione felt like hot pokers were pinning her at every side, blinding light invading her vision. She was falling down rapidly, as if somebody had pushed her off a cliff thousands of feet above the ground. She was too mortified to scream, too terrified to breathe, until her body crashed into dirt.

When she finally was able to breathe again, she blinked rapidly and spluttered the dirt from her mouth. Panting, she tried to adjust her eyes to her new surroundings, afraid of what era she may have ended up in.

Hermione found herself in a long stretch of dirt and cobblestone, where hardly any sunlight came through the dreary, narrow walkway. She struggled to her feet and leaned heavily against a black, brick wall, hidden among the shadows. Though as she looked around, the place seemed vaguely familiar…

She stepped away from the wall and took a tentative step down the path, and the more her vision cleared the more she recognized. The oddly shaped buildings, the dark, dreary alleys…

"Knockturn Alley," she breathed, and a rush of relief flooded inside of her. At least she didn't end up amongst cavemen or dinosaurs.

Her eyes immediately found the path that led back to Diagon Alley, and strode towards it. She still had her purse clutched in her hand, which she was eternally grateful for. All she needed was to know the date in order to turn the Time-Turner in the right decade. Sadly, it would be her last time-turning opportunity, as she only had two tries and she'd already buggered up the first one.

Hermione breathed in deeply when she walked up the steps and emerged into Diagon Alley. There were no witches or wizards currently walking around, though she did hear a soft rumble of voices not far from her.

Anxiety crept up in her. What was she to do next? Knock on Ollivander's door and politely ask what year it was? She began breathing rapidly as indecision and fear invaded her mind.

"Are you having a heart-attack?" a small voice said. She gasped and turned around wildly, shocked that somebody had found her already, but more shocked that she hadn't detected anyone watching her. It wasn't until her eyes fell on the corner the entrance to Knockturn Alley that she spotted the owner of the voice.

It was a boy, probably no more than eleven or twelve years old. He was sitting down on the corner of the Knockturn Alley entrance with a stiffness that she could only translate as annoyance or anger, and his hair was long and coming in his eyes. She thought him almost adorable, but more prominently a threat at the moment.

"Are you?" he asked again. There was no malice in his voice, just curiosity.

Hermione didn't know what else to do, so she went with her instinct and shook her head. "I'm alright," she assured him softly.

"Are you sure, because you looked like just you saw a troll," he continued, and Hermione's lips quirked up unwittingly at the boy's imagination.

"Do you know many people who've seen trolls?"

The boy smiled.

Suddenly, she realized that it would be much easier finding out the date from a little boy than from skeptical adults. Smiling still, she approached him slowly.

"I'm quite alright, but thank you for your concern," Hermione said kindly. She kneeled slightly so he wouldn't be intimidated by her height. "Are you lost? Do you need help finding your mother?"

"Why on earth would I go looking for  _her_ ," the boy said in disgust that was plainly written on his face. Hermione suppressed a grin.

"You don't like her?"

"Never! And you're probably just like her too, so bugger off."

Despite having a good five years on the boy, she found herself frowning.

"Why do you say that?"

"You just came from Knockturn Alley," he said plainly, as if it were obvious. "E _verybody_  knows the people who go down there are nothing but blood lovers," the boy hissed, eyeing her as if she were one herself. "And my mother is down there, and you two are probably the best of friends."

Her eyes softened a little but she said to him in a very stern voice, "I am not a blood lover, and I certainly did not go to Knockturn Alley to chat up with that sort of crowd. In fact," Hermione dropped her voice a little as if she were telling him a secret. And it worked, because the boy's attention piqued as he stared at her interestedly. "I'm not even pureblood. I'm a  _muggleborn_."

"Really?" the boy smiled slightly, but still wary of her.

"Cross my heart," she replied with a grin.

"So then how did you end up in there?" the boy asked again, glancing at the direction of Knockturn Alley. Hermione paused in thought.

"Well, I've never been on this side of Diagon Alley before. I got lost."

The boy laughed and shook his head in disbelief, but he no longer regarded her as cautiously. He even leaned his arms against the cement and stretched his legs.

"I could help you around, if you like," he said good-naturedly. "I don't know why I'm even still sitting here waiting for my mum. I'd love to see the look on her face when she finds out I've run amok. It'll take her  _ages_  to find me."

Hermione smiled. He glanced at her and looked down shyly before sticking out his hand to her.

"I'm Sirius Black, by the way," he grinned.

It took a lot of self-control to keep her jaw from dropping to the ground.  _This was Sirius?_  Hermione thought incredulously. And as a child, no less! Almost immediately, though, her heart began to pang as she remembered his fate in her lifetime. How this little boy would grow up finding himself wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban, lose all the people that he loved, and then have his life ripped away from him when he disappeared behind the veil in the Ministry of Magic.

_No_ , Hermione thought. She wouldn't let that happen. Things would change this time around. She'd make sure of it.

Hermione steeled herself from her sad thoughts concerning Sirius and quickly raised her arm to take his proffered hand, shaking it firmly. He seemed surprised and satisfied at her firm grip, and smiled even wider.

"It's very nice to meet you," she managed to say, still smiling winningly. Inside, her mind was working fast. This time-turning blip could work in her advantage, but she had to move quickly. "Tell me, Sirius, are you going to start school very soon?"

"I'm starting at Hogwarts next week," Sirius said smugly. But then his smile faded as he got lost in thought. "Though I'm not really looking forward to the first day."

Hermione frowned. "Why is that?"

He seemed hesitant to reply, but begrudgingly answered her. "Well, everyone is expecting me to be someone I'm not. They…my family…my brother..." he trailed, and then sighed. "I think I'll have to be Slytherin."

"You don't  _have_  to be anything."

"What would you know?" Sirius scowled. "You don't know me or my family. We're high status, we have responsibilities." The words sounded so rehearsed that Hermione wondered how many times Sirius had been told it before.

"You're right; I don't know you. I would've thought you to be brave and do what your heart desires, not what others desire from you."

Sirius looked away stubbornly.

Changing tactics, Hermione said, "When I was at Hogwarts, there was a boy in my year who thought he'd end up in Slytherin, but what he really wanted to be was a Gryffindor."

Sirius's eyes widened. "What happened?"

Hermione shrugged. "He believed in himself, and swore he would get in Gryffindor no matter what. And you know what happened? The sorting hat listened to him, and he ended up in Gryffindor just as he had set out to be in."

Sirius let these words sink in for a moment as his eyes had a distant look. "Do…do you think-hypothetically, of course-someone might be able to get the hat to listen to him this year?"

"Hypothetically?"

"Of course."

"Well,  _hypothetically_ , yes," Hermione said confidently. "You are your own person, Sirius. You are not your family's name. You can, and  _will_ , be who you want to be. You never have to do something or be someone just because others tell you to be that way."

Sirius face erupted in an ear-splitting grin and said, "You're absolutely right! I can do whatever the bloody hell I want!"

"Hey!" Hermione admonished, but he only laughed and stood up. Hermione rose as well, and realized she still had a mission to complete. He stared at her distractedly.

"What?" she said, gazing down at where he was looking.

He pointed at her knee. "Did someone hurt you too?"

She glanced down at the now-healed scar on her knee, but it was not the scar that caught her attention-but the soft choice of word:  _too._

Never had she felt such a sudden surge of sympathy and fury.

"No, it was an accident," she confirmed, and he looked up at her skeptically, debating whether she was telling her the truth. She decided to change the subject. "Sirius, could you do something for me?"

His eyes lit. "What?"

"Could…could you tell me what date it is?"

"It's the twenty-fifth of August," he replied. Hermione bit her lip.

"Yes, yes, but…could you tell me the  _whole_  date?"

He stared at her with a puzzled expression. Slowly he replied, "August twenty-fifth, 1971."

Nodding slowly, she fiddled with the Time-Turner in her pocket. She wasn't too far off from when she wanted to travel to. But when she glanced down at the young Sirius before her, dread filled Hermione's mind.

She had already changed the course of history by meeting Sirius Black too early, somebody she was definitely going to encounter when she turned the knob ahead a few years. This was not the plan Dumbledore had meant for her. She was not supposed to be in 1971 meeting anybody she'd see at Hogwarts in 1975.

Hopefully, she thought, Sirius's memory of her would be gone when she arrived as a fifth-year Hogwarts student.

Yet how she was going to manage pulling that off, she had no clue. Though Dumbledore had spent a considerable amount of time explaining things to her, he had been remarkably vague.

"I hear my mum coming! You'd better leave!" Sirius suddenly whispered. Hermione nodded and began walking away, trying to find a good, secluded area where she would not get startled and could peacefully travel time. Unlike the previous situation.

"Will you go out with me?" Sirius shouted suddenly, knocking her from her thoughts, and Hermione's jaw dropped as a strangled laugh erupted from her throat.

"I think I'm a bit too old for you," was all she managed to say, but Sirius persisted.

"Would you like to have butterbeer with me and my uncle this evening, then? He'd love to meet you," Sirius said encouragingly, and as much as Hermione would've liked to say yes, she knew it would harm the outcome of the destination she was headed to.

"Sorry," was all Hermione could muster up to say, and without another word she quickly sped up her pace and left Sirius far behind.

"Oi! What's your name, at least!" Sirius persisted, but Hermione smiled and shook her head, then turned a corner and disappeared from sight. She heard a female voice speaking soon, and knew he would not be able to follow her. Her heart was still tugging sadly after she'd ignored his request. He'd find out her name soon enough though.

She breathed in deeply as she retrieved the Time-Turner from her pocket. Looking around and making absolutely sure nobody was in sight, she grasped a knob and turned it four times.

She felt the familiar hot-poker suffocation from earlier that indicated that she would be time-travelling in a matter of seconds. Her eyes focused on the pendant, where the red rubies were swirling inside the little hourglass as she'd never seen happen before.

There really was no going back.

As she began to fade, amidst the blast of white light, she saw the figure of a boy appear at the entrance of the alleyway.

Sirius stared in confusion as he caught only the briefest glimpse of her eyes, and she disappeared.

Inside, Hermione cursed the world and wondered what damage she'd done this time, especially upon the eleven-year-old Sirius Black.

**xxx**

As she spiraled in the free-fall that the cursed Time-Turner induced, she prayed silently that she would end up in the right time upon the right circumstances. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and awaited the crash landing.

However, it never came. Hermione landed on the softest of plains, and she faintly caught the scent of lavender and fabric. Taking a breath, she cautiously opened her eyes.

Streaks of the evening sunlight were hitting her face through a window on the far side of the room she was in, and she realized she was lying on a bed. She shifted slightly and blinked. The bedroom was large and modestly decorated, much as her own bedroom back in her time had been. Sitting up quietly, she gazed around.

There were shelves filled with books, which she noted were mostly written by muggles; there was a writing desk located in front of the window, with bits of paper and pens littered on top, but a distinct, parchment letter was sitting in the center. There was an ensuite bathroom and, much to her amusement, posters of The Beatles were elegantly hung on the walls.

If that wasn't proof enough, as Hermione wandered over to her wardrobe, she saw muggle clothes that were decades out of fashion. Yes, she was definitely in 1975.

Hermione took a deep breath and contemplated the circumstances. Was this her new life now? Was this the one she'd be leading until the first Wizarding War? Until Lily and James Potter's son was kept safe from Voldemort? Until the horcruxes he'd already made were destroyed at Hermione's hands?

Was she even Hermione Granger anymore in this life?

Hermione distinctly recalled Dumbledore mentioning that the moment she knew her objective and turned back time, history would rewrite itself to fit her inside of it correctly. She wondered faintly if that had been done when she arrived in 1971 by accident, but disregarded it. Whatever the case, she was living here now, as it should have been.

Hermione walked briskly to the desk and searched the papers on it. Most were random writings about muggle historians, but soon wizard historians surfaced, such as Bathilda Bagshot. There were no letters, increasing her frustration. She needed to know her identity in this life!

Then the parchment letter caught her eye, and she held her breath. It had the Hogwarts emblem stamped into the wax. Slowly, she turned the letter over to read who it was addressed to.

**Miss H. Granger**

**Furthest Room on the Left**

**12 Godric's Hollow**

**West Country, England**

Her mind flitted nervously. So she was still a Granger. How could she possibly still be a Granger? And she was living in Godric's Hollow? With trembling fingers she opened the letter, and read carefully.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Your transfer to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been filed and completed. You will be starting your fifth year on September 1st. The list of requirements and rules have been enclosed as well._

_As your new Headmaster, I gladly await your arrival. Do not hesitate to ask for guidance, especially in dire times as these, for which you have most unfortunately faced this past month._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Hermione took a steadying breath and dropped the letter back on the desk. She was starting her fifth year, just as planned, and was living in a house with the same name as her identity. She shook her head numbly. How had any of this happened? Who was she staying with, and what tragedy had fallen on her this month that enabled Dumbledore himself to write to her?

Hermione started with a jump when she heard a small knock on the door.

"Hermione, dear?" a kind voice said through the door. Licking her dry lips and clearing her throat, Hermione answered, "Y-yes?"

"Dinner is ready, come on down to have a bite to eat with the family."

She felt her heart beating quickly. "I'll be down in a minute….Thank you," she added nervously, unsure of what to do next.

"Alright dear, don't be too long."

Soft footsteps faded, indicating that the woman who had been at the door was gone. Hermione's shoulders slumped, and she resumed her post on the bed. Her eyes wandered to the purse that was lying on it, and the golden Time-Turner with its red grains of sand now barely visible. To the left of it was her wand.

Sadness crept up inside Hermione as she hadn't allowed since she had left Dumbledore's office, something that she felt like happened days ago, when in reality it was only a few hours. This was it. This was her life. Never again would she see Ron's ginger tufts of hair, nor Harry's forest green eyes. At least, not the same way she had. If all went well in this time, they would be born in due time, but she wouldn't be their best friend as she had been. They wouldn't meet on Hogwarts Express, they wouldn't go to the Quidditch World Cup together, wouldn't stay up all night writing Potions essays. Everything would change. They would never know Hermione Granger the best friend, but Hermione Granger the adult, who may or may not still be alive by the time they grew up.

Unknowingly, tears sprung from her eyes and they fell silently on her lap. She had lost everything, all to change the fate of the world.

In her solitude she did not notice the door open, or the tall figure hovering above her. It wasn't until a shadow fell over her eyes that she jumped, realizing someone else was in the room with her.

"Whoa, sorry," the boy said, and looked embarrassed to have caught her so off guard. He saw her wet eyes and he shifted, unsure of what to do.

Hermione, however, was dumbstruck. "Harry?" she blurted in disbelief. It was unmistakable. The same jet-black hair that stuck out at every end, the glasses, the same physique—

"James, actually," the boy corrected brightly, while gazing at her unsurely. "Sorry to catch you at a bad time; I was, ah, just thinking we could head down together…"

Hermione blinked in surprise.

…James Potter? She was living with the  _Potters_?

Quickly, she dried her eyes and stood up. "Of course," she said breathlessly, though she couldn't help but stare at him. He looked  _so_  much like Harry, it almost hurt to look at him. And it was true what everyone had told Harry—he looked exactly like his father, except for his eyes. They were brown, not the familiar green that Harry had possessed.

James raked a hand through his hair and shrugged. "Let's go, then," and he led her out of her room.

They walked quietly down the steps until James perked up and asked, "So, er, how do you like it here so far? I mean, I know you only just moved in last night…"

"It's been very well," Hermione answered with a smile. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

He shook his head and shrugged it off. "Don't even worry about it."

When she arrived at the Potters' dining room, she nearly gaped in awe at the enormous table that stretched endlessly. The dining room itself was impressive; a glittering chandelier was perched just above the center of the table, and fine oak and mahogany cabinets with delicate silverware and china lined the ends of the room. Crystalline glasses and goblin-made goblets were placed at the table, and the room was lined with plush carpeting and perhaps the most comfortable chairs she'd ever sat on. She was slightly chagrined at James's spoiled lifestyle, for he did not hide his arrogance at the luxuries that surrounded him.

Hermione got the sense that James and the rest of his family did not know her well, as was expected. They would glance at her nervously, and the man whom she presumed was James's father cleared his throat.

"So, Hermione," he said with a kind smile, "are you looking forward to starting Hogwarts tomorrow?"

She fought off a double take. Was it August 31st already? Panic settled in her. Did she even have her school things? Her robes, requirements, textbooks—technically she had books stored in her purse but they were all from her  _sixth_  year—

"Yes," she answered, fighting of the hysteria bubbling inside of her. She gave a forced smile. "I can't wait to start afresh, Mr…?"

"You can call me Charlus," he finished. "You must've been really tired when you arrived at our house last night, to forget our names already!" Hermione froze, but saw only mirth in his face as he laughed.

"Oh, don't tease the poor girl," the woman sitting across from her reprimanded lightly. She settled her gaze on Hermione and her eyes softened. "You can call me Dorea, dear. Charlus has zero comprehension of other people's feelings," she explained while shooting a dirty look at Charlus, who frowned sadly. Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

Everyone stared at her in surprise, and she sobered.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, and lowered her eyes to her plate. James nudged her lightly on her shoulder, a grin on his face.

"Hey, don't let us stop you from having a laugh. I know I never do," James said good-naturedly, and a flicker of Harry came to her mind. Hermione smiled and nodded, resuming her dinner.

"You better watch yourself this year, James," Dorea warned darkly. "Having a laugh with your friends will not get you an 'Outstanding' on your OWLs." Hermione nodded to herself, remembering the trouble Harry and Ron had as they skived off in their fifth year instead of studying for the OWLs. They sobered somewhere nearly two weeks before the exam, but unfortunately for Ron, who did not receive a single 'Outstanding', it was not enough.

"Speaking of troublemaking friends," Charlus intervened with a mischievous smile. "Where's the motley crew, then? I thought they would be joining us for dinner tonight?"

James shrugged. "They needed to finish packing for tomorrow. Lazy bums, should've done it earlier."

"Says the one who's not even halfway done!" Dorea exclaimed, and Charlus chuckled as Hermione found herself smiling again. The love this family had was something she didn't get to see too often. Her thoughts drifted to her own family. Her parents were probably around here somewhere, though still unmarried most likely. She frowned. She could probably never meet them again.

It didn't matter, though. She was in this time to fix the damages of the future, not to faff about and cry for what she lost. She had told Dumbledore that she'd do anything to save the people that she loved. And this was how she was going to do it.

Hermione began to pace in her mind. She was a fifth year again, so that gave until the end of year seven to not only make sure she found the Horcruxes, but destroy them as well. And, if she could somehow prevent a few future Death Eaters from joining Voldemort…

Peter Pettigrew was the greatest one. Because of that vile man, Lily and James Potter were killed and Harry was left orphaned. Not only that, but Sirius Black spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit. Hermione closed her eyes. Yes, he would have to be changed first…or worse…

"Hermione, dear, are you alright?"

Hermione snapped out of her reverie and looked at Dorea, who was gazing at her with concern. She fidgeted nervously in her seat and nodded, noticing the rest of the Potters' eyes were trained on her carefully.

"Still a bit tired," she managed a small smile. Dorea nodded gently and continued to eat, looking up at her once in a while with concern still etched on her face. Hermione quietly pushed her plate away from her. "Do you…do you think I can go get some rest? I'm quite exhausted. May I be excused?"

"Of course, of course!" Charlus said quickly, motioning for her to leave. "This is your house now, dearie, you can do as you please."

"I certainly do," James piped in, earning him a fierce glare from his mother. Hermione thanked them and began to pick up her plate to take to the kitchen.

"Oh no, no, dear, the house-elves will deal with that," Dorea intervened, and Hermione hesitated.

"It's no trouble, Mrs. Pott—ah—Dorea," Hermione smiled politely, picking up her plate. "I did this all the time at home." She left the Potters staring at her in shock, as if she were Voldemort doing the Macarena in a bubble bath.

Finding the kitchen was a difficult task, but after a few moments she pushed open an oaken door and found herself in a kitchen the size of a classroom at Hogwarts. Her breath sucked in, and she took a step inside.

There were perhaps a dozen house-elves doing various tasks around the kitchen. Some were scrubbing dishes rigorously, others were dusting the shelves, and a good amount were cooking over stoves and putting things inside an oven. It was bustling with activity, and they seemed so excited with their work, that Hermione felt like she was crashing a party with her plate of half-eaten dinner.

She cleared her throat and the house-elves ceased to see who made the noise.

"Hello, miss!" the nearest house-elf squeaked.

"I brought a plate," she explained somewhat awkwardly, as they all seemed surprised that she'd done such a task.

"You shouldn't have, miss!" the elf exclaimed. "I is at your service, it is Mipsy's job to serve the noble guests of my masters."

"Thank you, but it was no problem," Hermione stammered as the plate was snatched from her by another house-elf and was being scrubbed clean immediately. She looked back at Mipsy and held out her hand. "I'm Hermione."

Mipsy looked like she would have rolled to the ground had a nearby house-elf not squealed and grabbed Mipsy's hand, pushing it to Hermione for her to shake. The other house-elves were awed, and began to gather around her as if she were an angel.

"You is too kind," Mipsy said breathlessly as Hermione retracted her hand. All the other house-elves agreed fervently, and suddenly all of them wanted to meet her and shake her hand, which Hermione obliged with a soft laugh.

"You all are so wonderful, how could I not be?" Hermione answered. She was satisfied that these house-elves were clothed and managed properly, unlike many others she'd seen back in her time. The Potters were good masters, but clearly having a stranger treat them so justly was not common at all.

"You is kind and noble," a smaller house-elf sighed, and the others nodded rigorously.

"Shall we get you anything else, Miss Hermione?" Mipsy asked, and the other house-elves joined in trying to serve her.

"Some ice-cold water?"

"A pillow for Miss Hermione's comfort?"

"A plate of fresh cookies for Miss's long journey to Hogwarts tomorrow?"

"A bath before Miss retires to bed—"

Hermione quickly grew overwhelmed by the eager responses from the house-elves and had to interrupt them to get them to listen.

"Thank you so much, but I'm just going to go to sleep right now," Hermione interjected loudly, but with a smile nonetheless. "The food was delicious."

A unanimous squeal of glee erupted and Hermione stepped out of the kitchens and waved goodbye, then closed the door behind her.

She breathed in deeply. It would be long night, and she needed to start preparing immediately.

As Hermione approached the winding staircase that led to her bedroom, she noticed the Potters were still seated at the dinner table and were speaking in hushed voices.

"She's a bit of a nutter—"

" _James!_ "

" _What,_  you saw her, all dazed and jumpy—"

"You tell me how you'd act if a group of Death Eaters tortured and killed us and almost killed you!"

"Yeah, I suppose, sorry 'bout that…"

She heard Charlus's voice lower. "Dorea, dear, how do we know the Grangers again? I know the Ministry said she had no family left and we were the immediate contacts…"

A loud smack was heard and Charlus groaned. " _Shame on you_ , Charlus Potter! They're old family friends! Just because we may not have seen the Grangers in a little over twenty years—"

"—Or a hundred—" she heard James add.

"— _Doesn't_ mean we don't help someone in need!"

There was a long silence. Then, "…We have close muggle family friends?"

Another loud smack was heard, and Charlus yelped. "Clearly they weren't just any muggles," Dorea Potter's voice dropped dangerously. "The girl is special, I can tell. She was reportedly tortured by the Cruciatus Curse for an hour, and I'm surprised she's holding conversation as well as she was. Her parents…"

Hermione had heard enough. Quietly she turned back to the winding staircase and made her way up another flight before reaching her room.

So that was what had happened. It was too bad that Hermione had no knowledge of how she came about to such a horrid disposition, but Dumbledore  _had_ mentioned that history would rewrite itself to place her accordingly in it.

So if Hermione wanted to be a Hogwarts fifth year in 1975, she would have to live as an orphaned girl living with the Potters.

The reality of her permanent stay in 1975 was confirmed with the massacre of the Granger family. That meant her father, whoever he was in this time, was gone, and the Granger line ended indefinitely. She would not be "born" in 1979 as she was supposed to.

Very well.

Hermione closed the door behind her softly, and stared around at the large room that was her bedroom. For having arrived only just  _last night_ , it was already very personalized to Hermione's tastes. The posters, the plain writing desk, the sheets…

Her eyes wandered to a Hogwarts trunk that lay underneath her bed, and Hermione knelt down to the floor. She yanked it out and carefully opened it, and found all her textbooks had been bought for her already as well as her supplies.

Her eyes wandered to the purse lying on the bed, which was filled with everything she felt she needed before her time-turning journey. Suddenly she realized how reckless she'd been—if anyone were to find the books in there, or worse, the photograph album…

A knock on the door halted her thoughts, and she replied a soft, "come in".

James's head popped in the doorway, and he grinned. "Ready for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, looks like I've already packed," Hermione nodded, and couldn't help but smile at the crooked grin that was plastered on James's face. "What is it?"

"Well, I was hoping—if you're done with your packing, of course—if you'd like to, ah…"

"Help you pack?" Hermione finished his sentence, and rolled her eyes when James nodded sheepishly, hope lighting his eyes.

"I just thought, you know, it'd go by  _much_  faster if the two of us did it together, and it'd definitely give us a chance to know each other bit."

Hermione accepted and headed with James to his room, which was directly across from hers. His room was surprisingly well-kept, but she supposed she'd have to give the house-elves credit for that. He really didn't have much left to pack, just a bunch clothes that needed to be folded and placed inside his trunk.

"So, what's your story? What school did you used to go to?"

Hermione froze for the millionth time that night. What the hell was she supposed to say here? She didn't bloody well know, and if she answered incorrectly and if James were to find out about it, she'd look suspicious.

She shrugged and replied, "I..well, just a school. I was homeschooled a lot too. Nothing like Hogwarts, I'm sure, but it was very good."

James nodded and continued with his questions. "So did you like it there? What stuff have you learned already?"

"I think it's my turn to ask questions," Hermione said playfully, and James laughed but nodded. "Do you like it at Hogwarts?"

He rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding me? If I were to have a second home, Hogwarts is it. I love it there—getting to spend an entire year learning spells and hanging with my mates? I couldn't ask for more."

Hermione grinned at his enthusiasm and secretly agreed. It was exactly why she loved going to Hogwarts, as well. It felt like…home.

They spent the rest of the night conversing and getting to know each other while packing. At the end, when Hermione was about to leave his room, James stared at her intently.

"What?"

"You're alright, Granger."

Hermione smiled in confusion. "Thanks, I suppose. I'd say the same, but I'd be lying."

He laughed. "Oh yeah, my friends will  _definitely_  like you."

Hermione's grin froze temporarily before she gathered herself and nodded in agreement, bidding James goodnight.

As Hermione lay in bed, she fought down the anxiety of meeting the rest of James's friends, whom she knew very well were going to be Remus, Sirius, and Peter.

Dread gripped her stomach. She prayed Sirius wouldn't recognize her as the girl he'd met by Knockturn Alley four years ago.

**xxx**

"This way," James ushered her quickly as Hermione struggled to keep up with him. They were already boarded on the train and had said their goodbyes to the Potters. He helped put her trunk up with the others and she muttered a grateful thank you, before having herself lurched forward when he grabbed her hand and led her through the compartments.

"Don't you think—we should—slow down?" Hermione panted as she squeezed through a crowd of students.

"Tighten up, Granger! If you stay this wishy-washy, you'll end up in Hufflepuff!"

Hermione huffed and wished he knew just how much of a Gryffindor she was, but kept her lips tightly closed. Her heart thudded when she saw a familiar head poke out of a compartment four doors down.

"Oi, James! Over here, you lazy arse!" the young man said, and Hermione felt herself go warm.

"Shove off, Sirius!" James hollered back, and gripped her hand tightly as Sirius disappeared behind the compartment door. She suddenly dug her heels in the ground, and James looked back at her when she stopped moving.

"What is it?" he asked.

Hermione swallowed. "Are—are you sure you want me to sit with you guys? I could find another—"

"Don't be silly," James said impatiently and yanked her forward, eliciting a cry of surprise from her. "My friends are your friends. Stop worrying so much."

They paused in front of the compartment, and Hermione took a deep, steadying breath as James slid the door open.

She scanned the three inhabitants carefully. She recognized Remus Lupin first. Even as an adolescent he had a pale appearance, but his face was much younger and, she dared to think, much more handsome than she ever saw. He had soft brown hair and was already in his Hogwarts robes. Sitting opposite him was a boy she knew to be Peter Pettigrew. He was young and small, very different from the decrepit traitor he was when Hermione met him. She couldn't stop a deep feeling of hatred and loathing immediately shoot inside of her, but she squashed it down. He wasn't a murderous traitor yet. Hermione had the chance now to change that.

Peter was currently giggling excitedly at something Remus had said, and her eyes travelled to the young man sitting to his left.

Sirius looked…different.

Hermione's conscious kicked her as she tried to stop herself from staring at him, but was difficult. He had dark hair that fell around his face and eyes, which were a deep, silvery grey. His jaw was angled, as were the sharp edges of his high cheekbones. He had the air of aristocratic elegance without even trying, and an unmistakable air about him that made him feel almost unapproachable. This was not the young boy she met in 1971, nor the tired man with sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks that she met after his escape from Azkaban. This was a Sirius she had never known.

James cleared his throat as he entered, and the laughter died a little. "Everyone," he said proudly, "This is Hermione Granger, the new addition to my—and our—family."

Remus smiled good-heartedly at her and held out his hand, introducing himself. Peter did the same, but very shyly, and Hermione shook his kindly, knowing that if she wanted to get close to the future Death-Eater, she'd have to be extremely nice to him from the start.

Sirius was staring at her silently, his eyes slightly wide.

Hermione grew uncomfortable as he continued to look at her without saying a word. She cleared her throat and fought off the blush that threatened to creep up her cheeks, and took a few steps towards Sirius.

"Hermione Granger," she smiled pleasantly and held out her hand.

He glanced at her outstretched hand and then back at her. After a moment James piped in, "For Merlin's sake, Sirius, don't be a prat and shake the girl's hand." Remus and Peter chuckled, but even Hermione heard the faintest edge in James's voice. Sirius blinked and raised his hand, shaking hers, and she smiled as she shook it firmly. Sirius's eyes widened further and nearly tore his hand away from hers. Hermione frowned, but Sirius muttered, "Sirius Black. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she answered, before turning to take a seat directly across from him.

"So you're a transfer student?" Remus asked genially, the first to strike a conversation with her. Hermione nodded with a small smile.

"Why'd you transfer?" Peter asked but immediately looked sorry; James had kicked him hard in the shins and Remus glared. Even Sirius appeared annoyed but said nothing. "I-I mean, you don't have to answer, it was my mistake, honestly-"

"Really, it's okay. Not like all of Hogwarts won't find out by the time I step off the train anyway." She turned to Peter and took a breath, but Remus cut in.

"It's alright," he said kindly. "You don't have to tell us anything if you don't want to." Hermione looked at him in surprise, and fell silent.

Peter, hoping to amend his earlier mistake, tried to change topic. "What house do you think you'll end up in?"

"I'm hoping for Gryffindor," Hermione answered honestly.

"And why is that?"

It was Sirius who asked the question. He was looking at her intently, and Hermione lifted her chin.

"Because it's the best."

Sirius's lips quirked into a faint smile, and her eyes trained on them for a moment, noticing how soft they looked. She quickly averted her gaze and saw Sirius looking at her with slight amusement. He still remained unusually silent, as if contemplating her deeply.

Trying to remember her.

Gratefully, the compartment door opened and an elderly woman appeared. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

"Yes, I'm starved," Hermione jumped up, wishing to escape the strange atmosphere in the compartment. She closed the door behind her and reached down her pocket to take out some of the money the Potters had most graciously given her. She bought Two Chocolate Frogs, a licorice wand, a handful of pumpkin pasties, and a single box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. She almost wanted to keep buying things just to prolong her return to the compartment.

James, Peter, and Remus weren't really disturbing her as much as Sirius was. It was bad enough that he'd caught a glimpse of her time-travelling, nonetheless trying to remember her now that she appeared back in his life. But she was just as guilty, for she couldn't seem to help from straying her eyes to meet his, which disturbed her immensely.

There was definitely something wrong with her.

Hermione reached the handle to the compartment when she overheard a bit of the conversation inside.

"—told me she was a nutter!" Remus exclaimed incredulously.

"And she was! Until she actually started talking, she's quite alright now—"

"She seems nice," Peter added quietly.

"Very," Remus agreed. "Pity about what happened to her—"

"I've met her before," Sirius said in a low voice.

Hermione dared not breathe as a silence fell in the compartment.

"You're barking," James smirked.

"He's just pulling your leg," Remus chuckled, but Sirius said no more. The conversation drifted from topic to topic, and it seemed Sirius had foregone his silence and was laughing merrily with the others.

Hermione swung open the door and marched in, throwing some of her sweets to the boys as she walked by.

"Aw, you didn't have to, Herms," James grinned while taking a hefty bite out of a pumpkin pasty, and Hermione's eye twitched at the nickname. "But I'm glad you did."

"I agree," Remus said as he opened the Bertie Botts box.

"Thank you," Peter squeaked in a high-pitched voice, and the others sniggered. Hermione sat in front of Sirius with two chocolate frogs and a licorice wand.

"Take one," she said with a smile, holding out her hands encouragingly. Sirius gazed at her for a moment and ran a hand through his hair before carefully taking a chocolate frog.

Hermione smiled. "Good choice. They're my favorite," she said, and Sirius grinned. "And it's Hermione, if you don't mind." Hermione looked pointedly at James.

Sirius stretched lazily in his seat, biting the head off the frog.

"So,  _Herms_ ," Sirius said with his mouth full of chocolate and Hermione narrowed her eyes. It was such a Ron thing to do that it was uncanny. "Figure you'll do alright here?"

"It's Hermione, and I don't see why not," she replied loftily, unwrapping her chocolate frog.

"You better watch out for the Slytherins," James warned darkly, but the Marauders all laughed.

"Especially old Snivelly, he'll grease up your clothes just by looking at him," Sirius added with a chuckle.

Hermione's brows knitted, frowning. They were referring to Snape. She remembered what Dumbledore had told her about him in his office.

"I don't think that's very nice, talking about people like that," Hermione said quietly.

James snorted. "You say that now, Hermione. Just wait until you meet the bloke."

Hermione said nothing, and noticed Sirius was looking at her again.

"Sirius, remember what happened with Snivelly and the giant squid?"

He erupted in a massive grin. "Oh, those were the good old days," he laughed, shaking his shaggy hair away from his eyes. "Think we can top that one this year?"

"We better, or I might actually start doing my own homework."

The compartment exploded in laughter and Hermione's lips twitched. At least she was fortunate enough to land herself among people with a sense of humor, even if it was grinding her insides.

"We're almost there," Remus noted as he looked out the window. "You all better change."

They all pulled on their Hogwarts robes as the train slowed to a stop and steam burst from the engine one last time. James led her through the train. She began taking her trunk but a pair of hands grabbed the handle and effortlessly picked it up. She looked up to find Sirius hauling it away.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"No problem," he answered easily, and the two stepped off the train. He began gazing at her again, his brows furrowing.

"Hermione," he said suddenly, and Hermione glanced up with her heart pounding.

"Yes?"

" _Have_  we met before?" His eyes were searching hers, as if demandingly saying,  _tell me the truth, or I'll find out anyway._

But it was not this day.

Firmly, she shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'd remember someone like you."

He seemed surprised, and had a curious half-smile on his lips as they walked ahead to the carriages.

Sirius suddenly whistled low and shook his head. Hermione glanced up at him. "What?" she inquired, but he merely pointed ahead.

Hermione groaned inwardly.

"Let me get those for you," she heard James say to a girl with long, red hair, and he pointed his wand at her things. " _Locomotor trunks!_ "

A loud groan resounded as the girl kicked him hard in the shins, the spell ending quickly. "I don't need your sodding help, Potter! Stay away from me!"

Sirius and Hermione hissed in a breath when the girl grabbed the trunk and shoved it violently so the end James in the leg as well, and he hobbled over towards the pair with a wince.

"Honestly, what is this new trend of hitting the shins?" James grumbled, pushing his unkempt hair back.

"I think it's just you, mate," Sirius said, attempting to stifle a laugh. Hermione turned away to hide her grin. Sirius watched her with amusement before his eyes glazed, and he turned sharply away from her.

Yes, he definitely remembered something.

Suddenly a sharp pain gripped her body and all the air escaped from her lips. She doubled over and her hands curled into fists, her nails digging fiercely into her palms and drawing spots of blood. Her spine straightened and Hermione's head shot up in the air as painful spasms coursed through her body.

"What's happening?" she heard Peter exclaim in fright, and she felt a pair of strong arms holding her tightly as her muscles spasmed uncontrollably.

"Hermione?"

"Is she okay?"

"Shush—I think it's—it's the aftereffects of  _the curse_ …"

She felt a hand stroking her back gently, until finally her muscles relaxed. After a long while she opened her streaming eyes. She was panting, and someone was still holding her softly.

James's face came into vision. "Are you alright, Hermione?" She licked her dry lips and nodded slowly, taking steady breaths of air. Slowly the arms that were holding her loosened, and she looked up and saw it was Sirius. His expression was unfathomable as he shifted back to where he had been sitting.

"That looks painful," Remus noted, looking at her palms. She looked down and saw the crescent shapes that her nails had cut into her skin.

"I'll be fine," she muttered, but inside she was frantic. What the hell? Was she really having side effects from the Cruciatus Curse? But…but that hadn't really happened to her, it was just a story been created by…by…

Horror dawned upon her. Though she may not have experienced what had happened to her, it was the story that history had written for her in this decade. And now she was truly living it.

In her distress she took out her wand and quickly did a healing charm on both palms. It was only when she sighed and looked around that she saw all four friends staring at her incredulously.

"You already know how to do nonverbal spells?" Remus said in disbelief. She felt her throat constrict.

"Well, yes, I…I mean, my old school…"

"Every body off the carriages!" a loud voice boomed, and she sprung out as quickly as possible, shivering against the chill night air. Nobody questioned her again, but decided to ignore everything that had happened in the carriages for the sake of not making Hermione uncomfortable.

Professor McGonagall came into view right in front of her. "Hermione Granger?" she asked briskly, and Hermione nodded. "Come with me please."

She followed behind the quickly moving Professor, and turned to have one last look at the Marauders, but Sirius was the only one who watched her leave into the Hogwarts entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 7/23/15


	3. Vivera

**Chapter 3**

_Vivera_

"No need to look so frightened, Miss Granger, we're just sorting you into your house early," the brisk voice of Professor McGonagall interrupted Hermione's racing thoughts. Hermione was silent as she continued to follow the Transfiguration teacher down the familiar corridors, straying from the Great Hall. Her prior knowledge of the entire castle led her to the understanding that she was being led to the Headmaster's office.

Swallowing hard, she gazed up at the stern-looking teacher and wished she knew who Hermione was. Professor McGonagall always had a soft spot for her out of all Hermione's peers. Her flawless grades were a majority of the reason, but something else had led the strict witch to hold some affection for her.

None of that existed now as McGonagall led her to a very familiar winged gargoyle. "Lemon Toffee," she said tersely, and the gargoyle's wings spread with life, and McGonagall led her up the staircase.

The room was almost exactly the same as it was when Hermione had last seen it. The walls were mounted with portraits of previous Headmasters, the shelves brimming with odd knickknacks and spinning contraptions. A chair stood delicately in front of an oaken desk, and Dumbledore was seated behind it.

His half-moon glasses did not obscure the familiar baby blue eyes of her headmaster. His white hair was not flowing as long as it normally had; rather, his beard just barely grew past his chest and his emerald robes were contrasting strikingly against the silvery hair.

"Thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore smiled, and the witch nodded curtly before exiting the office. His attention went back to Hermione. "Hello, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said happily.

"Good evening, Professor."

"Your trip to Hogwarts went well, I presume?"

"Yes sir," Hermione replied. Her eyes wandered, wondering where the sorting hat was.

"Professor McGonagall brought you here upon my request," he admitted. "I thought it would be a waste having you wait to be sorted after a hundred first-year students."

Hermione nodded placidly. Dumbledore watched her softly. "I also wished to offer my deepest condolences for the troubles you have faced this summer."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione responded, "but I am quite alright. The Potters…everyone has been so kind to me. I really am in more a debt than I am in sorrow."

"You brave, brave girl," Dumbledore said sadly, and a shock coursed through her. He had said those very words before she turned back time. The revival of the phrase was…unsettling.

"There are a few things I wish to discuss before placing the Sorting Hat on you," Dumbledore began. "First, a question of your hospitality at the Potters. I admit it may be a bit soon to have a strong opinion, seeing as you only stayed at their house for two days—"

"Professor," Hermione interrupted kindly. "I assure you, they are the most generous people I've ever met. Truly, I am fine."

Dumbledore smiled. "I thought just as well. Moving along, I feel I should remind you that should you need any help, I am here to help any student who requires it." He watched her carefully. "It is not often when a Dark Mark is set upon a Muggle house and there are still survivors inside of it. This should not be confused with luck," Dumbledore said softly, "but perhaps a message that you are needed in this world just a little longer."

Hermione smiled, but secretly wished somebody would just tell her what exactly had happened to her that was so traumatizing, that the Headmaster was looking for her safety? Suddenly she felt the weariness Harry had often mentioned, when everyone looked at him like he was about to die any minute.

The story this alternate life made for her was that her family, the Grangers, was tortured and killed, and Hermione would have had the same death sentence had she not somehow escaped. And though  _she_  did not actually live this story, her body somehow had, for she'd  _felt_  the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse in the carriage with the Marauders.

She was still Hermione Jean Granger, a muggleborn who had muggle parents. But the universe made sure she could never come in contact with her family bloodline ever again.

She was truly alone.

Hermione's eyes wandered back to Dumbledore, and had a sudden urge to tell him everything that had happened in the future and with Voldemort. She would have to eventually, for if she wanted to destroy any horcux she would need the sword of Gryffindor.

It was at that thought that she came to a full halt.

"No," she breathed in horror. The sword…it wouldn't work! It needed basilisk venom embedded inside of it, and that only occurred because Harry had killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets in her second year. Unless she decided to go to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on her own and hiss at a faucet until the chamber opened, and  _somehow_ drive the sword of Gryffindor into the basilisk's skull before getting petrified again when looking into its eyes, she had a fat chance of destroying any horcruxes.

Why the  _hell_  hadn't she thought of that?

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?"

Dumbledore's voice snapped her back to the present. She swallowed painfully and shook her head.

"Nothing, Professor. Just…just excited to start my term."

Dumbledore rose from his chair and reached above one of the shelves, retrieving a dusty, haphazardly patched hat, one Hermione knew very well. "Let us not delay, then. I'm certain the first-years are beginning to get restless."

He drifted over to stand beside her, and carefully placed the hat atop her head.

"Hermione Granger, fancy meeting you…again," the Sorting Hat said quietly, and Hermione's eyes widened and almost spoke, but remembered that Dumbledore was still in the room.

 _How do you know?_  she thought with a slight shiver of panic.

"I know your mind, Miss Granger…I see everything you've seen," was the hat's reply, but she detected amusement.

Hermione closed her eyes resignedly.  _So then you know what house I belong in._

"Indeed, but is it the house you  _need_  to be in this time?"

The thought struck her. If she were to think about it…most of the people she needed to confront were the prospective Death Eaters. If she were to be in Slytherin, it would be possible to keep them from joining Voldemort…and Snape was in Slytherin, so it would be quite beneficial…

But at the thought of the Gryffindors, and most importantly Peter Pettigrew, Hermione steeled herself.

 _Yes,_  she thought with unwavering certainty.

"As you wish," the hat whispered, "but before I announce it, let me leave you with this…the past is very difficult to change, Miss Granger. If one thing fixes, another thing breaks."

Hermione furrowed her brows, but before she could ponder its words the hat announced loudly, "GRYFFINDOR."

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, and removed the hat from her head. "Congratulations," the old wizard grinned happily. "I will escort you to the Great Hall where you will join the other students. Enjoy your term, Miss Granger."

They left the office and headed down the corridor, finally meeting the enormous brass doors that led to the Great Hall. "I believe I may cause a commotion if I were to enter with you, Miss Granger. This is where I must leave you."

She nodded and watched Dumbledore walk away, and she took a steadying breath. She stepped inside.

Inside was near chaos, had McGonagall—the face of a livid sorceress—kept the students from acting out. The absence of the Headmaster—and the Sorting Hat, for that matter—caused the Hogwarts students to become restless. The chattering was incessant, and sixth-years were speaking darkly to the first-years lined up for Sorting.

"You have to kill it within twenty seconds before it bites you with its venomous teeth," she heard one student say to a trembling blonde-haired boy. Hermione grinned at how much it reminded her of Fred and George.

She walked slowly along the Gryffindor table, debating where she should sit.

"Oi! Granger! Over here!" a voice shouted, and her attention snapped a few feet away from her. She saw James waving his hand, motioning for her to sit by him.

She started towards him when a hand shot out to her arm. She paused, and saw a pretty red-headed girl shake her head. "Don't even bother. His head is filled with as much air as a fifty-foot balloon."

Hermione couldn't stifle a shocked laugh as she looked at the girl in wonder. Her eyes were vivid green, with flaming hair that cascaded gently down her shoulders. Hermione recognized her as the girl James had tried to help earlier with the trunks—

 _Lily Evans!_  her mind shouted in glee.

"You're probably right," Hermione grinned, and took a seat next to the girl when she moved to make room for her. Hermione held out her hand. "Hermione Granger."

"Lily Evans," the girl grinned. Lily looked over in the direction of James, who seemed put-out momentarily before gazing at the pair with unmasked interest. Hermione's eyes traveled to the boys that sat around him.

She squirmed when Sirius caught her eye again, staring at her just as he had on the train. She shifted uncomfortably and decided to resume her conversation with Lily.

"Are you a fifth year?" she asked.

Lily nodded. "You're the transfer student everyone's talking about," Lily stated more than questioned.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "People are talking about me?"

Lily shrugged nonchalantly, easily picking up Hermione's discomfort. "Not really, just word of mouth…Hogwarts doesn't get many transfer students, is all." Lily gave an encouraging smile and switched her attention to the sorting that had finally begun.

Hermione nodded slightly, worry etched on her face.

It seemed anonymity was out of the question…yet again.

"I just want this over already," Lily admitted, glancing at the Slytherin table almost longingly. She smiled faintly and then turned around, but glared when James tried to catch her attention by sending the tiniest of shooting stars in her direction from his wand. Lily's jaw tightened and she ignored him, turning around completely in her seat to face the ceremony.

"I'm guessing you're not very fond of James Potter," Hermione noted, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"You'd best stay away from them," Lily warned her darkly, inclining her head to where the Marauders sat. Hermione glanced at them briefly before saying, "Why?"

"They're nothing but trouble-making tossers, that lot," Lily growled. "All they know is how to show off and bully people for fun. Now," a small smile spread on her face, "I can't wait to introduce you to my friends.  _Especially_  Severus. I'm sure you two will hit it off right away," Lily smiled at the thought, and glanced at the Slytherin table once more. "Unlike Potter, Severus has one of the most brilliant, talented minds at Hogwarts.  _He_  appreciates his education, not wasting it on silly pranks."

Severus Snape, Hermione realized, was sitting there, which was why Lily kept throwing glances at the Slytherin table every so often. She wondered what Snape was like in his time at Hogwarts. Probably bitter and spiteful, just as he was as a Potions teacher.

A long sorting ceremony and a feast later, Hermione felt herself gravitate out of the great hall once they had been dismissed to their dormitories. She yawned, the enormous amount of food effectively causing her to want nothing but to collapse her bed.

Lily introduced her to her other friends, including Alice Wilkins and Amelia Abbot, along with a few others from different houses. Hermione found herself quickly getting along with them, for their friendliness and humor turned her so-far tumultuous journey into the past a shade brighter.

"Severus!" Lily's eyes glittered with happiness momentarily and she motioned for him in her direction. Hermione spun around to catch a tall figure walking stiffly towards them.

Fifteen-year-old Severus Snape had long hair that hid most of his face, a hooked nose, and shoulders that hunched as if to draw the least amount of attention to himself. As he faced Lily, however, his demeanor changed completely. His body grew more relaxed, and he moved the strands of hair from his face to grin down at her.

"Evening, Lily," he grinned and Hermione couldn't help a tiny gasp when Lily launched herself in Severus's arms with a squeal, and he held her in a tight embrace.

"That was probably the longest, most boring sorting of the century," Lily grinned up at him, loosening her hold on his neck but not detaching herself. Severus seemed quite thrilled that she clung to him so ardently and tightened his hold around her waist for a moment, laughing with her.

Hermione couldn't believe that this happy, young man was the same man who glared at everything that breathed twenty years in the future. Severus Snape the Potions Master was vastly different from Severus Snape the schoolboy.

Hermione lowered her eyes, feeling suddenly awkward, not knowing if she should still be here when they clearly wanted to talk amongst themselves. She discreetly began to inch away when Lily gasped.

"That's right, I forgot!" Hermione yelped when Lily's strong hand yanked her forward, bringing her stumbling into Severus. His eyes widened and he raised a hand to steady her, and Hermione straightened immediately. Lily smiled and announced, "This is my new friend, Hermione Granger! She's the transfer student we spoke about earlier."

Hermione couldn't help the pink tinge that formed on her cheeks when she heard that last statement. Why was everyone so curious about her arrival that they held interested conversations about her? Was it because they knew about the Death Eater attack on her family?

"Severus Snape," Snape said somewhat shyly, glancing down. Hermione couldn't fight the smile from spreading on her face. Young Severus was simply too adorable, and she had to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks.

She held out her hand and grinned. "It's nice to finally meet you," Hermione said, shocking Severus with her eagerness. He smiled curiously and took her hand as she shook it firmly.

"Finally…?"

"Oh yes," Hermione said with a knowing smile. "Lily told me all about you and your  _brilliant_  mind." Lily began laughing when Severus turned beat red and spluttered as he shook his head, and only stopped when Lily stepped toward him to loop an arm around his neck again. He began to smile again and looked over at Hermione nervously.

"So you're in Gryffindor?" Snape asked with a smile.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore thought it'd be easier to sort me separately, so as to not draw too much attention to my arrival. But it seems everyone knows who I am anyway."

Snape nodded and began discussing fifth-year classes, but after Lily stifled a yawn his eyes snapped to her immediately. He urged them then, to their dormitories and rest, and after many protests on Lily's behalf, they began to climb the grand staircase.

Lily and Hermione made their way to the Gryffindor common room and climbed through the portrait hole. Immediately Lily shucked off her Hogwarts robe and stretched, hearing a few joints crack. Hermione followed suit and stifled another yawn.

"Long day, huh, Evans?" a jolly James grinned, coming into view as the Marauders also climbed through the portrait hole. The content expression on Lily's face was wiped away, leaving an irritated grimace.

"Goodnight, Potter," she said tonelessly, and linked her arm with Hermione's. "Let's go, Hermione."

She smiled apologetically at James, who sighed in defeat yet again as Remus patted his shoulder.

It was at night when everyone was fast asleep that Hermione began to think.

Her heart was racing at the finality of her readmission into Hogwarts. She began to accept her living situation with James and the rest of the Potters, as well as the circumstances upon which she arrived to this decade. Her mind wandered over to the words the Sorting hat had whispered to her in secret.

_If one thing fixes, another thing breaks._

Hermione couldn't stifle the shiver that ran through her. She understood it perfectly. Her presence in the past had its consequences. This applied to her directly—using the Sands of Destiny to bring her to the 1970's had enabled her to have a false family history. Everything that had supposedly happened to her in this life was real. As was explained the aftereffects of a Cruciatus Curse she had yet to be cursed with.

The damned hat basically crushed everything she set out to do. Dumbledore should've spoken with it before giving her the blasted Time-Turner.

Hermione tossed between the sheets, restlessness coursing through her body. Giving up, Hermione pushed the covers away with her legs and sat up. She eyed the dormitory, making sure that the rest of the girls were asleep. Softly as to not wake anyone, she crept out of bed and opened the door, silently making her way out of the girls' dormitory.

She faced the door that led to the common room, and quirked a brow when she saw the faint glow of light seeping through the door's edges.

She contemplated abandoning her little privacy adventure and just trudge back up to her bed. But sleep did not overcome her, and the restless itch in her muscles made her fidget uncomfortably. Taking a breath, she turned the knob.

The common room was empty, but she saw a small fire burning in the fireplace. Hermione sighed and stretched, feeling herself relax as she finally had a few minutes to herself. The corners of her mouth turned up as she remembered sneaking down here in the dead of night numerous times with Harry and Ron.

Padding softly to one of the red, squishy armchairs, Hermione gasped when she saw another figure already sitting in it.

"Oh. Hello," Hermione blinked. Sirius was lounging comfortable in the armchair with a piece of chocolate hanging from his mouth. He seemed just as shocked to find her in the common room so late at night, but as she gazed at him she saw just the slightest flicker of amusement.

Sirius swallowed and seemingly got over his initial shock as a signature grin spread on his face. "Fancy seeing you here this fine morning."

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at his casual statement. He patted the armchair beside him invitingly and Hermione hesitated for a moment before walking up beside him, sinking into the sofa. Her gaze followed his hand as he lifted it to his mouth and stuffed it with another bite of chocolate. She saw the wrapping lying forgotten by his feet and smirked to herself.

"Chocolate frogs again?" she couldn't stop the smile from spreading on her face. "The ones in the train ride weren't enough?"

"They never really are, no," sighed Sirius, and Hermione suppressed a smile. He gazed at her contemplatively, and said, "Why are you up this late?"

Hermione couldn't help but freeze a little. He was staring intently at her again, just like when she met him on the train. Shrugging, she replied nonchalantly, "Couldn't sleep." He didn't seem satisfied with the answer but let it go, returning his attention to the chocolate in his hand. Suddenly he reached in his pocket and procured a blue box with golden wrappings.

"Hungry?"

Hermione watched him carefully, then looked down at the chocolate frog box in his hand. Slowly, she reached over and took the box.

Silence fell between them. Hermione felt awkward, not knowing what to say anymore. She snuck a glance at him through the corner of her eye and saw a pensive look on Sirius's face as he stared at the glimmering flames. She began untying the golden thread wrappings and gingerly brought the chocolate to her mouth.

Once again, for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Hermione focused her eyes on Sirius Black. Though her experience in this new era had been somewhat surreal and heart-wrenching, she had accepted it. Waking up in the home of James Potter had been a shock, but she had accepted it. Finding Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew more than twenty years younger was difficult to grapple, but she had accepted it.

But finding Sirius on the train, as he watched her with unfathomable, inscrutable eyes as he pushed and fought to recognize her—and part of her feared he already had—was very difficult to accept. She couldn't for the life of her understand why it was so hard. She had adjusted to this alternate life, permanently stuck in the 1970's, and she hadn't so much as flinched. Perhaps because she knew it would change the future, that Dumbledore's plan in the grand scheme of things had a possibility to work, and that it was her duty to ensure a change in history happened.

Hermione nearly glowered at Sirius. So why was  _this_  hard for her? It wasn't just that he'd accidentally met her when he was eleven. No, it was more. She didn't know what, but it infuriated her that she could be in his presence and not be her controlled, determined self. She couldn't be herself at all. She looked at him—as she did now—and horrible, painful thoughts erupted in her mind, memories flipping through her mind like pages of a book.

The night that she met Sirius—sunken, sallow, starved, and broken, in the Shrieking Shack; locked inside Hogwarts awaiting for the Dementor's Kiss, until Harry and Hermione rescued him on Buckbeak; arriving at the Order headquarters at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place; the inescapable nights of fear when she would creep down from her room in the dead of night to the kitchen, but finding Sirius already there with his shoulders sagged in age-old tiredness and defeat, clinging to the memory of the people he'd lost; when Harry's own mind betrayed him as he forced his way into the Department of Mysteries as he realized Sirius had never been in danger at all; Sirius arriving with the rest of the Order members, delighting in dueling any Death Eater that raised a wand against him and anyone else; waking up next to Neville Longbottom and hearing the anguished cries of Harry as she realized, in horror, the Sirius had been pushed beyond the veil in the archway, never to return; the utter hopelessness as she sat next to the repairing-then-destroying cabinet where all of the Time-Turners had been irrevocably smashed, placing finality in Sirius Black's permanent demise…

The memories flitted mercilessly through her mind and her hands began to tremble, her eyes widened in shock and fixated unwaveringly at the young boy of fifteen before her, the boy whose future was in her hands, her hands to change his fate so that he'd never have to endure twelve years in Azkaban, imprisoned for a crime he'd never commit, would rather die than betray his friends…

"Hermione?" Sirius's concerned voice broke her out of her reverie, but she still gazed him with wide eyes. Sirius could tell the instant a change had happened inside her; when she'd gone suddenly still and her eyes grew distant, gazing at him as if she were looking  _through_  him. Despite his feelings of uncertainty where she was concerned, he couldn't help the worry that was etched on his face as he gazed at the unmistakable fear written all over her.

"Hermione?" he repeated. Slowly, he put the chocolate frog down on the floor as it hopped away easily, but he didn't seem to notice.  _Perhaps she is thinking of her family that was lost under the wands of Voldemort's followers?_ Sirius thought vaguely. _Or is it the torture she'd endured in the aftermath?_

In a sudden movement Hermione leapt from the armchair and was beside Sirius. He stared at her in shock.

Hermione couldn't control it. She didn't want him to die. She wouldn't let him die.

She wouldn't let anyone die. That was why she was here.

Hermione's fingers gripped the armrest in a vice-like grip, controlling the urge to reach out and grab him into a fierce hug—something he'd done with her after she helped him escape Azkaban, and when she arrived at Grimmauld Place during the summer of her fifth year. Merlin, how was she supposed to act normal around him? Around Remus? Around  _Peter_? The man who betrayed Lily and James Potter? How was she going to pull this off?

"I realize you don't like me very much right now," she found herself saying almost hoarsely, and his eyes widened.

"I never said—" he began weakly but she continued.

"But James has been so incredibly kind to me these past few days since my arrival here. And you, Remus, and Peter have been  _nothing_  but nice to me. I…I won't forget that. Not after everything I've lost." She swallowed hard, fighting to push away the memory of the empty veil where the older Sirius had fallen through. "I…hope someday you may find a friend in me."

Finally she couldn't resist the urge and reached her hand to lightly touch his arm that was in his lap. Withdrawing quickly and before he could protest, she smiled and stood from him, striding back to the door that lead to the girls' dormitory. She turned her head slightly and smiled brightly. "Thank you for the chocolate." She disappeared behind the door and shut it quietly.

Sirius was left breathing rapidly as he tried to control the furious hammer of his heart. He stared at the spot where she had been kneeling, and at the armrest where her fingers held onto it with a death grip. Then his eyes traveled to his arm, the warmth of her fingers still lingering on his skin.

He remembered the sad, conflicted eyes that pierced through him, and he could almost taste the unholy sadness that was Hermione Granger.

Merlin, what had happened to the girl to cause her so much suffering?

**xxx**

The first class of the day was Potions, to which Hermione was—surprisingly—glad she sat next to Snape. It was the only instance that she saw him at complete peace, staring at the simmering cauldron as if brewing were child's play.

That, and the fact that the class was predominantly Slytherin and they all seemed to emanate the aura of Death Eaters made her feel slightly reassured to be seated by someone she'd already been acquainted with, and someone she knew wouldn't harm her since she was becoming fast friends with Lily Evans.

"I think you need the frog legs now," Hermione noted as she poured her eyes fervently on her Potions book. She could almost hear the smirk in Snape's response.

"You  _think_?" Snape said loftily, earning him a sharp gaze from Hermione. His smirk faltered, and he seemed to rethink his words and his position, falling back into the nervous boy she met last night.

"I'm certain," she said, but she allowed a hint of amusement to flicker over her expression so as to not torture him too much. He caught it quickly and resumed smirking before taking the jar of frog legs and unscrewing the metal lid.

"Have you spoken to Lily lately?" Snape said nonchalantly, eyes trained hard on the frog legs he was extracting from the jar.

Hermione glanced at him, and her lips quirked. Focusing her attention on the potion instructions, she answered calmly, "Well we  _do_  share the same dormitory, and we  _did_  eat breakfast together in the Great Hall twenty minutes ago, so…yeah, I'd say I have spoken to Lily lately." She snuck a glance at him, nearly breaking her controlled expression with his look of chagrin.

"I guess," Snape mumbled, staring into cauldron as he dropped in the amphibian legs into the liquid simmering inside. Hermione's smile shrank as she saw the sullen expression on his face, and she felt a twinge of remorse course through her. He looked immortally depressed all of a sudden, and she was sure that her light remark couldn't possibly have affected him so dismally. But gazing at him, she knew something was stirring in him, dampening his mood. No, she wouldn't have any of that.

Hermione sighed. "You need to stop worrying so much," she said, taking the stirrer from his fingers and resuming where he left off. Severus gazed at her in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged, not really knowing where she was going with this. "Well, you two are best friends, right?" He hesitated, but nodded after a moment. Hermione nodded in affirmation, as if she'd been expecting that answer. "And you wouldn't do anything to hurt her?  _Say_  anything to hurt her?" She dropped the hint lightly as she remembered Snape's grave mistake of calling her a Mudblood in this very year. No, she didn't want that to happen this time around.

"Of course not," Severus snapped, and a look of mild irritation flitted through his eyes.

Hermione sighed again and looked at him wearily, trying to convey the double meaning of her words. "So then, stop  _worrying_  so much."

He kept silent, pondering over her words. After a few moments, he muttered, "Pass me the roots."

She picked up the roots and handed them carefully, eyeing Severus with caution. Hopefully he hadn't taken offense to her words, and hopefully, hopefully…

They stared at each other for a while, challenging the other to waver. After a few moments, she saw the spark in his eye and she couldn't prevent the grin that started to take form on her face, and she noticed with glee that her smile was the catalyst to his own small, badly suppressed grin, and within moments they laughed easily and resumed working on their potion.

"You know, Granger," Severus chuckled as his knife carefully cut the roots. "I could get used to this."

She felt a jolt go through her, a glimmer of an emotion she was too afraid to acknowledge was real coursing through her blood and tingling her skin. She let out a breath and reached over to touch his arm very lightly.

"My name's Hermione."

He glanced up sharply, shock registered on his face, and a small, tentative smile lit his eyes.

**xxx**

After an hour in Potions and another in History of Magic, Hermione found herself sitting in the Transfiguration classroom with excitement. It was her first day with Professor McGonagall since she'd escorted Hermione to Dumbledore's to get sorted, and Hermione felt the familiar crackle in her brain, the need to achieve above and beyond and gain the respect from her professors. And with McGonagall—a teacher with whom she shared a mutual admiration—it was almost necessary to be accepted by her.

Hermione was seated a row behind the front, her back straight and her wand delicately placed on her desk. A quill and parchment were aligned in the middle, the ink bottle carefully beside it. Anticipation bubbled excitedly in her, momentarily causing her to forget her surroundings.

"Look who decided to take over my seat," a voice said, and Hermione glanced up to see James staring down at her with a mock-glare.

"Sorry," said Hermione, but James just shrugged. "No matter, I shall hark on this fine oaken platform hither," he announced, dramatically falling in the seat beside hers.

"Stop teasing her, James, she doesn't know when you're being serious yet," the serene voice of Remus said, and he took a seat to her left with a genuine smile.

"Don't be silly, Remus, only  _I_  can be Sirius," a deep voice wafted behind her, and Sirius plopped down on the seat directly behind her. "Morning again," he smiled, and she returned it with one of her own.

"Hello, Hermione," a tentative voice said, and Hermione turned to face the front. Peter was sitting in front of her. She returned the smile eagerly. "Hello, Peter!" His hesitance evaporated as a genuine smile spread on his face at her kindness, and he gave a small laugh.

Good. She needed him to be happy, to feel a part of something more than just a sidekick of Sirius and James. With any luck, by the end of the semester she will have helped him grow a sturdy backbone against any taunts that may come his way, anything that would force him to betray his friends in the next few years. She reminded herself that this Peter was still just a fifteen-year-old boy, shy, and not at all capable of killing anyone. He still had good in him, and that meant he had a chance.

"Well, if what I see is correct, it seems all four of you have surrounded me," Hermione said dryly, and it was true. Peter up front, Sirius in the back, and James and Remus at both her sides: it was almost overwhelming to be in the presence of all four Marauders so…oppressively.

But perhaps it was not unwelcome.

"Your observational skills astound me," James said wryly.

"Must be the Gryffindor in you talking," Remus noted.

"Roaring, actually," Sirius corrected, and they erupted in easy laughter. She noticed Peter's face as he watched the light banter pass between the other three, and he giggled whenever a particularly good tease was thrown into the conversation. She noticed, with a fraction of sadness, that he hardly participated with his own witty comments. Perhaps he was too afraid to be noticed, to be made fun of, even if it was by his best friends…always so intimidated…

"Say Peter, how do you think Transfiguration will be this year?" asked Hermione suddenly.

He seemed to freeze, caught unawares that Hermione would actually, willingly, strike up a conversation with him. His small, boyish face had a look of shock for a moment, before he stammered out, "W-well it is our fifth year, and the OWLs are approaching…I assume it will be far more difficult than any year before but, I do think it won't be too rough if we study hard."

"Excellent," Hermione beamed. "That was exactly what I was thinking. I've always believed trying very, very hard will always be rewarding. I've never actually had trouble with Transfiguration—don't get me wrong, the incantations are  _very_  tricky, and I did have my fair share of trouble last year with the basics of vanishment, but hopefully all will go well."

Peter seemed struck, as if he couldn't believe someone other than the Marauders had remotely any interest in having a full-length conversation with him. But, slowly, the confusion wore off, and his demeanor relaxed, and he started agreeing with her and added his own little input with the prior years of Transfiguration he had with McGonagall, and how though it seemed difficult he found it rather easy.

"Though she'll chew you alive if you don't live up to her expectations," Peter warned darkly. "In my third year she nearly hexed me for getting an 'E' on one of her pop examinations. Never stopped slacking for this class since then."

"An 'E'?" Hermione said disbelievingly. "But Peter, that's—that's—"

 _A grade I would have gotten and received the same treatment,_  Hermione thought to herself. McGonagall was disappointed in him for receiving and 'E'? And only in his third year, no less? Never, up until now, did she realize the hidden talent inside the boy before her…

"Peter…" she said slowly. "What was your grade for this class last year?"

He pinkened at the wonder in her voice. She watched him frantically glance at Sirius and Remus and James, relieved that they were still barking amongst themselves. Timidly he whispered, "An 'O'."

She nodded, and a smile began to spread on her face. "That's brilliant, Peter. I think I've finally met my match."

He laughed a little nervously, but she could tell he was beginning to see her in a new light. It was at that precise moment that the door swung open and a set of emerald robes swished down the aisles and marched up to the front desk.

"Good morning, class," Professor McGonagall said in her stern voice, and the class greeted her respectfully. "We'll start with our lesson right away. Who can tell me what an Animagus is?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air, but it also included Remus's. She glanced at him, knowing full well why he would know what an Animagus was, and how it certainly was  _not_  like a werewolf.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"An Animagus is a witch or wizard who can turn into a specific animal at will. It is more of a skill than a hereditary trait, as is with being a Metamorphmagus."

"Excellent. And what spell is necessary to turn oneself into the animal form?"

Hermione's hand shot up again. "No spell is required for turning into the desired animal, as wand magic is not necessary for the transformation to occur."

" _Excellent_ , five points for Gryffindor," said McGonagall. "I know you all have learned of Animagi and such in your third year, but I bring it up because today we will be transfiguring random objects into fully functional animals.  _That_  requires a spell. In your second year I did teach how to turn animals into objects—a barely difficult feat—but instilling life into an object is vastly different. Changing the molecular structure of something to turn into a living, breathing creature is no game. I advise you to proceed with today's lesson with utmost caution."

By the end of her monologue the class was somberly silent, as was custom whenever McGonagall wanted to intimidate her students into working seriously and diligently. Satisfied with the silence, she waved her wand and a projector lighted as she dimmed the candles around the room.

They began taking notes on the incantation and wand movements required. Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit off-guard, mostly because she was never taught how to do the spell in her fifth year. It was classified as 'unnecessary' and though the spell was on the exam, she never had to lift her wand to a cup and transfigure it into a being.

"Now," McGonagall resumed, "as you can see, transfiguring something into an animal requires giving your own energy—no, not your magic, Abbot,  _energy_ , to the object. Anyone willing to explain why?"

Hermione almost answered, but she noticed Peter's arm twitch, but he remained motionless. Hermione glanced around the classroom, and realizing nobody made the attempt to answer.

Now was her chance to spark the change inside Pettigrew. Now.

Hermione leaned over her chair and moved to his ear. "Do you know, Peter?" Hermione whispered softly. He didn't turn his head, but nodded lightly.

"Don't hesitate, then. You have a remarkable brain up there; it's time everyone knew about it."

Peter contemplated her words, and briefly Hermione thought he dared not heed her advice. Just as she leaned back into her chair and sighed resignedly, she saw a shaking hand rise in the air.

"Yes, Peter?"

Hermione's eyes widened as McGonagall called on him. Peter swallowed hard before quietly murmuring, "Energy is transferred as the catalyst of instilling life into the object; transferring magic would do it no good as it is already infused with it while the incantation is made, and does not have the life-giving properties or abilities as our own human energy does."

The class seemed shell-shocked, as was McGonagall, as she had an expression of slight surprise. It was not often that Peter spoke in class, no less participate and give a highly correct answer. McGonagall's surprise did not last long as she gave a slight nod and replied, "Precisely. Ten points for Gryffindor!"

The class broke out in small chatter. Peter turned to her, and incredulous look on his face, and Hermione grinned. "That was great, Peter."

James reached over and clapped Peter on the back. "Oi, mate, where did that come from? If you were this bloody brilliant, why haven't you helped me with my Transfiguration essays, eh?"

"You never asked," Peter answered, and Sirius roared with laughter.

"Cheers Peter, tell 'em how it is," Sirius grinned.

After a few minutes the class resumed their work, and finally got to choose which object they wished to transfigure. Hermione browsed the box filled with random things when something caught her eye.

It was a brass compass, a bit large to fit in her hand. There were needle markings and red arrows and it was heavy to hold for something relatively small compared to the broomsticks and milk jugs inside the box. Hermione picked it up immediately and retreated to her desk.

"Bit bold, don't you think?" Remus noted, and she glanced at him. He gave a small smile. "The smaller the object, the harder it is to transfigure it. Case and point," he gestured at the large, rusted trophy propped before him.

"I'm sure I'll manage," Hermione replied with a half-smile. In earnest she wanted to challenge herself, wanting to test her limits. It was only then that she knew she could handle the next three years.

Three  _years…_ Hermione wondered. She never thought of it that way…

Once the class was settled back into their seats McGonagall spoke again. "Since you know the incantation, and you have your objects, it's all about concentration. Have an animal in mind before you begin. Transport your own energy into the object, and the moment you feel a  _tug_ , you know the energy has been transferred and you move your wand away immediately. Only a drop of energy, no more. Too much will explode the object. Also," Hermione could feel the impatient shuffling behind her, showing that Sirius was getting antsy and he really wanted to start casting the spell. "succeeding in this spell will not work."

Everyone's jaw simultaneously dropped.

"Not work?" Remus spluttered. "Then what's the point of all this?"

"The point is, Mr. Lupin, that it will not work  _today_. This is advanced magic. You cannot hope to transfigure anything today, but I want you to practice the motions. You can try, try all you need. But do not expect results today."

Remus seemed a bit put out, but gripped his wand firmly anyway with defiant determination written in his eyes. Hermione admired it, and knew that he, just like her, wanted nothing more than to succeed in this task.

"Also," McGonagall continued, "this procedure could also be considered a kind of test. A test of your Transfiguration skills. Usually the ones who grasp the concept the fastest are those more likely to be competent Transfiguration students," McGonagall began to smile. "Prior years have shown that students who can transfigure them first, are usually capable of more advanced transfigurations. More or less, the competence to become Animagi."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she looked discreetly at James and Peter, wondering if they were Animagi yet.

Half an hour later, Hermione was positive that none of the Marauders were Animagi yet. She watched from the corner of her eye as James furrowed his brow and muttered, " _Vivera!_ " repeatedly, but to no avail. Peter and Sirius were having the same trouble. Clearly they hadn't mastered their animal counterparts yet. Hermione briefly wondered when they would take interest in it.

Hermione fastened her eyes on the brass compass before her. She'd been at it for just as long, and she could feel herself panting a bit from the effort of drawing out energy from her body into the compass. Remus was right. Smaller objects were much more difficult.

"No luck, Hermione?" Remus asked, his forehead glistening with perspiration. Hermione was in the same state as she had to tie her unruly hair away from her.

"Unfortunately, this compass is quite resilient to me," Hermione muttered in agitation. Surely this wasn't supposed to be  _that_  hard?

She heard him chuckle. "I am afraid my trophy doesn't much like me either."

Hermione scowled. "Oh, don't be so modest. I saw your trophy twitch for a moment."

He was about to respond when Sirius suddenly exclaimed, "I did it!  _Look!_  I actually—oh."

Hermione whirled around at the excitement of his voice, and froze when she saw a puppy instead of a bread basket on his table. The only thing was, it failed to move.

"Well, now that you have the transformation part, how about bestowing it some energy, no, Mr. Black?" McGonagall noted lightly, amusement lingering in her eyes. "A little bit less wand waving and a little more concentration should do the trick." She waved her wand and reverted it back into a bread basket and walked away.

Sirius looked positively livid as he stared at the bread basket once more. Hermione fought hard to keep from laughing, but Sirius caught the mirth in her eyes immediately.

"Not one word, Granger," Sirius intoned dangerously.

"I wouldn't dare," she said with difficulty as tried to keep a straight face. It seemed James wasn't as hesitant and began laughing immediately.

" _'Guys, look! I did it! I did it! Oh no'_ ," James mimicked somberly, and Hermione could contain it no more. She broke down into soft laughter that rang in the air mirthfully, and soon Peter and Remus joined her. Sirius still had a look of indignation on his, and he gazed at her with an indescribable emotion.

"At least I managed something," he said defensively, but a reluctant smile started to crack on the corners of his mouth.

"Aw Sirius, it's alright," Hermione grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair playfully. His expression wavered as he locked his eyes with hers. Immediately she realized what she'd done and retracted her arm, the smile fading.

Why did she touch him like that?

Sirius's mouth began to curl upward, holding her gaze as he murmured, "Why don't you show me better results and then we'll call it even?"

"Sounds good to me," she replied faintly. She couldn't rip her eyes away from his grey ones. There was warmth in those irises, warmth like she'd never seen before, not even when she knew him at Grimmauld Place. Hermione felt her face growing hot under the intensity of his gaze and she turned to refocus on the compass before her.

"What am I doing?" Hermione whispered to herself in disbelief. She didn't come back to 1975 to make googly-eyes with Harry's godfather! What kind of twisted game was she playing at?

" _Vivera,_ " Hermione pointed her wand at the compass. Nothing. " _Vivera,_ " she said earnestly.

She nearly gasped when she saw the compass flicker, a hint of a feather on the dial before disappearing quickly.

Had she…had she almost transfigured it?

Hermione hadn't felt the tug of energy that McGonagall mentioned would happen, which was probably why the compass hadn't transfigured. But the slight feather she'd seen on the dial had been unmistakable. She was so close.

Did that mean she had a small potential at being an Animagus?

Hermione looked around to see if anyone had noticed what happened, but everyone was too immersed into their own spells to take heed of the compass that had slightly shivered on her desk. Caught up in her bubbling excitement, she didn't notice Remus's eyes trained on hers.

"Time is up," Professor McGonagall announced. "Please place your objects back into the box. We shall resume tomorrow."

Hermione huffed in disappointment and placed the brass compass back in the box.

Tomorrow was much too far away.

**xxx**

Hermione checked her watch, shifted impatiently in her seat. Severus had said he'd meet with her and Lily in the library during lunch so that they could finish go over their Herbology work, but so far Severus was nowhere in sight.

"It's not like Sev to be this late," Lily complained, leaning her forehead in the crook of her arms that were folded on a table.

"He'll be here," Hermione assured, glancing at her watch again.

"Maybe you should go check," mumbled Lily, head still buried in her arms.

"He's  _your_  best friend, why don't you look for him?" Hermione retorted.

Lily lifted her head and smiled sweetly. "Because I'm not nearly as nice as you are."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Hermione chided, but stood up nonetheless. Sighing deeply, she exited the library and strolled through the corridors. It felt strange, being this close to Harry's mother, and to Snape for that matter. But she couldn't seem to help herself. Severus Snape really was nothing like he was when she had him as a professor. He was shy, and kind, and even had a sense of humor. He smiled and laughed and looked all of fifteen years young, so carefree, so…

So innocent.

It was a different story when he was by himself. Left alone, or more specifically, without Lily (and for some reason without Hermione as well), Severus became extremely antisocial, secluding himself to the corners of a room and burying his nose in a book. He spoke to no one, made eye contact with nobody, and gave the impenetrable aura of gloom and hatred that left him unapproachable, even to the few who had any inclination to speak to him. He was terse and abrupt, and his spirits only seemed to lighten when given the opportunity lock himself in the Slytherin common room or when a cauldron was placed before him.

She wasn't so sure why Severus had taken to Hermione, and why she had offered him her hand in friendship so quickly. It just seemed so… _easy_ , being his friend. And considering what Dumbledore spoke to her about his horrid demise—death by a snake, and revealing his undying love for Lily Evans—there was more to Severus than he let on. And if,  _if_ , she had any hope of changing history, she wished to make sure Severus Snape never frolicked with the Death Eater crowd at Hogwarts.

Just as she wished for Peter, she wished for him.

Hermione sighed. She could only hope.

As Hermione walked lazily down the halls, noticing that her stomach was still growling and that lunch time was slowly but steadily ticking away, she saw movement by the glass window to her right. Beyond the window was a courtyard where several students were eating their lunches, and she almost ignored it when she saw a familiar face.

She felt the oncoming warmth creep up her cheeks as she saw Sirius among the crowd of students. His face was flushed with excitement, his eyes dancing as he grinned. It really was horrible, the way Sirius made her feel. She couldn't help but gaze at him, with memories of her past life and with aspirations to change his fate. And, amongst those thoughts, she started having ones that she knew Harry, or Ron, or anyone she once knew, would never let her live down. Part of her wanted to steer clear of him, knowing that she had fractured some part of his memories by visiting him accidentally in Diagon Alley when he was eleven. And she knew, deep in the recesses of his mind, that some part of him recognized her, almost immediately on the train to Hogwarts. She had been frightened at the fire that gleamed in his eyes, the words she knew he hadn't forgotten that had been exchanged by the pair. He knew too much, far too much…if she wasn't careful, Sirius Black could easily foil any plan she had for the 70's.

But Hermione's smile faded as she saw something, something wholly different about the way he was smiling, the way the corners of his lips curled not genially, but as if he were thoroughly entertained by something…

Hermione blanched and rushed to the door to the courtyard, striding in long steps to where Sirius stood. She noticed James was right beside him, laughing gaily. Hermione could feel her blood go cold.

"Let's give him a beard, shall we?" James asked innocently.

"Nah, too easy. How does a pair of knockers sound?" Sirius made a crude gesture around his chest, and James snorted.

"How about this?" James said deviously, and pointed his wand at a figure lying on the floor.

Hermione gazed incredulously at the stiff form of Severus on the grassy grounds of the courtyard. From the looks of it, one of the Marauders had cast the Petrificus Totalus spell on him, leaving him completely paralyzed, and the pair was deciding how to transfigure him hideously.

She watched in horror as James aimed his wand deftly at Severus's arm and moved it slowly, running the length of his forearm. She saw smoke rising from his sleeve, and Sirius shifted nervously.

"James, what are you—"

" _Stop it!_ " Hermione screamed. She rushed over and James broke away from Severus, glancing up sharply. His stricken face relaxed slightly when he noticed who it was.

"Hermione—"

"Don't say my name!" Hermione shouted. She whipped out her wand and both James and Sirius took an automatic step back. Hermione did not spare them a glance but focused on the still form on the ground.

" _Finite Incantatum_ ," she said decisively, and immediately Severus began to move, rolling over in pain.

"We were just having a laugh, Hermione," James insisted as Hermione crouched on the ground by Severus, carefully grasping his arm.

" _Don't you dare speak my name!_ "

James flinched, and Hermione gingerly helped Severus to his feet. He was stoically silent, refusing to meet her eye.

"I don't need your help," Severus muttered gruffly, and Hermione snapped, "Hold your pride off for just a moment Snape." Furious, she wheeled around to the pair who hurt him.

"You," Hermione said dangerously low, staring at James with as much hatred as she could muster. Never had she felt like this, not even with Draco Malfoy, the only person who had ever stirred feelings of dislike in her. "You strut around, cast a Petrificus at someone, and start transfiguring their  _face?_  Who the  _hell_  do you think you are?"

"James Potter," he responded lightly. Sirius nudged him hard, making Hermione's eyes snap to his.

"And you," she whispered. "You think it's funny, hurting people you don't like?"

"We didn't  _hurt_  anyone; it was just a bit of fun," Sirius crossed his arms.

"A bit of fun," Hermione repeated slowly, and suddenly memories rushed into her mind, memories she knew didn't belong to her yet. "Now, I think I've heard that one before. About three weeks ago, actually. This woman—crazy girl—thought: you know, why not start hurting a few muggle families? Why not kill a young girl's family and use the Cruciatus curse on her for a while? A few hours, maybe? She thought—and this is a direct quote—that it'd be  _a bit of fun._ "

James's mouth was agape, dumbstruck, while Sirius looked like he'd just been slapped. Silence had surrounded them now, all of the students staring at the scene curiously.

James was the first to speak. "Mum said it was for an hour," he said weakly. Hermione felt the floodgate of memories fill her mind again, flashing a cackling face and unimaginable agony.

Her mouth was set grim across her face as she whispered, "She was wrong."

James made no motion to speak anymore, and Sirius was staring at her despairingly, but she ignored it. At the moment, she felt nothing but hatred towards the pair.

 _And I wanted to help him?_  Hermione thought bitterly. She wanted nothing to do with him or James for that matter.

"Let me make something very, very clear," Hermione said calmly. She raised her wand to them threateningly, and instinctively they flinched away. "You will not speak to me; you will stay away from me completely. If you see me in the hallway, you will go the other way. And if you see Severus, and you decide it would be  _fun_  to raise a wand against him again—believe me when I say this: the moment I learn something's happened to him because of you two, I'll have  _a bit of fun_  of my own."

Her eyes moved to Sirius. A grimace spread on her face that she could not contain and she shook her head, locking her eyes with his. "You disgust me."

She spun around and grasped Severus lightly by the arm, guiding him out of the courtyard. The silence continued, and once they reached the corridor Severus extracted her hand from his arm.

"I am alright," he said quietly.

"You should go to the hospital wing," she noted, gazing at the injured forearm where smoke had been rising from.

"No," he said vehemently, clutching the arm to his chest protectively. She stepped away.

"Okay, okay, no hospital wing. Let me at least see it. I could help treat it."

"I don't need your help."

Hermione felt anger envelop her once more. "Look Severus," she hissed quietly. "I really could care less how bruised your ego is that some mudblood girl just stood up for you. You should be glad you have friends that actually care about your well-being, because they don't come by often. So I suggest you stop trying to push me away and let me see your bloody arm."

Severus looked at her with wide eyes. Quietly he murmured, "Why did you call yourself that?"

Hermione blinked. "What?" He glared at her. "What, mudblood? I'm sorry. I guess old taunts stick for a while. I'll have to learn to kick the habit."

He stared at her darkly. Even more quietly, almost until she could barely hear him, he muttered, "Don't call yourself that again."

Hermione looked at him with surprise, and nodded silently. Slowly Severus moved his injured arm away from his chest, and held it towards her.

**xxx**

When Lily found out what had happened to Severus, she went on a violent rampage. The moment they were in the common room, she hunted down James and thrashed him multiple times before turning to Sirius and hexed him. She turned frostily away from the pair and marched up to the girls' dormitory with Hermione, where she proceeded to rant about the idiocy of the human race.

The next day Hermione found herself in the Transfiguration classroom again. She noticed that Sirius and James chose to sit in the back of the room instead, taking her words to heart. Good. She didn't want anything to do with them.

It gave her some joy that her quarrel with the pair didn't affect her budding friendship with Peter or Remus. Remus mused distastefully at the degrading acts the two had committed, and Peter merely shook his head.

The brass compass was in front of her again, and she whispered the spell over and over, forcing her energy to latch onto the circular device. Anger welled in her again.

" _Vivera_ ," she whispered desperately, but nothing happened. She knew it wouldn't; only truly advanced students could even dream to achieve this feat on only the second day of practice. She looked behind slightly and saw Sirius with the same concentrated look written on his face, muttering the spell with determination. Anger welled in her again as she remembered last afternoon.

Angrily she turned back to the compass. Why wouldn't it work for her? Why was this so difficult?

How could she be expected to achieve anything in this decade if she couldn't even master a fifth-year spell!

" _Vivera!_ " she cried, and was shocked when she felt a tug at her heart. Her wand trembling, she noticed the compass was shaking. Remembering McGonagall's words she moved her wand away quickly, ensuring not too much energy was drained from her.

The compass was shivering, distorting in size as her energy flowed freely through the circular contraption.

Suddenly the compass exploded, sending shards flying in every direction. Hermione yelped and jumped from the desk so that she wouldn't be struck with the worst of the shards.

 _I guess I still infused too much energy into it_ , Hermione thought wryly.

McGonagall was by her side in an instant as she examined the remains of her compass. "As expected during the first energy transference," McGonagall sniffed, but looked at her with something close to admiration. "I must say, Miss Granger, I definitely did not expect progress this fast. This is truly quite remarkable."

"But, I didn't transfigure it," Hermione protested, but McGonagall waved her words away. "That is a long ways task, Miss Granger. The fact that you were able to transfer your own energy after just two days tells me that I can expect great things from you."

Almost immediately sounds of bursting objects erupted in sequence around the room. Startled, Hermione glanced around to where it came from. She saw the objects that Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James possessed had all exploded.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows in disbelief, and Hermione gaped at the Marauders openly. After a moment she gave a shaky sigh. "It appears Gryffindor is far more talented than I expected this year. Twenty points to Gryffindor."

Hermione glanced at Remus who shrugged with a smile, and Peter seemed absolutely delighted at his destroyed statue head. James was shocked, and Sirius held a look of contentment on his face. He felt Hermione's stare and glanced up, surprise written on his face. Hermione glared at him and he averted his gaze, an uncharacteristic tinge lighting his ears.

Hermione turned away and waved her wand, repairing the broken brass compass.

The Marauders wouldn't be the only unregistered Animagi this year.


	4. The Full Moon

**Chapter Four**

_The Full Moon_

"Will you stop avoiding me?"

The potions room was louder than usual that morning, as Slughorn had decided in his finite wisdom to assign a particularly troublesome brew that required working in pairs. They had not missed his fleeting smile when he loudly announced who each student would be working with, nor did it go unnoticed that each Slytherin was paired with a Gryffindor.

Severus did not look at her directly, but merely inclined his head to affirm that he'd heard her as he tipped a small vial into their boiling cauldron.

"I don't know what you're talking about," was his smooth reply.

"Bollocks," Hermione murmured, adding a sliver of rat tail. "You're still being...odd."

"I can't say I understand what you mean," he replied, focusing intently on the cauldron.

Hermione cut the rest of the tail with viciously precise strokes, earning a startled look from Severus.  _At least he's looking at me, now_ , Hermione thought wryly. "Then pray tell me why the only words you've spoken to me today were 'pass me the powdered horn'? If this is about what happened in the courtyard, honestly-"

"Maybe," Severus said slowly as he stirred the cauldren, "you need to stop making everything about  _yourself_ , Miss Granger."

Hermione felt something twitch inside her. The amount of times Snape had called before…

"Then do enlighten me,  _Mr._  Snape," Hermione replied tartly.

His stirring hand stilled over the cauldron and he let it go, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were hard and serious.

"No," he replied shortly. "I don't think I will. Because if you can't see it, if you are as much of this  _friend_  you say you are to me, then you wouldn't need to ask. Now, put in the powdered root."

Hermione sat and stared at him for a while, observing the tension in his shoulders as he resumed stirring. Now that she thought of it, he'd been very tense the past few days, even around Lily.

Her eyes widened. "This is about  _Lily?_ "

Severus jumped slightly and glared at her, hissing, " _Quiet!_ "

She couldn't stop grinning. "What happened? Did you do something wrong? No that can't be, she would have told me if you buggered up—"

"I did  _not_  bugger up," he seethed, but still had the unsettled air of distress behind his irritation.

She furrowed her brow. "Then what's gotten you so tense, Severus?"

His eyes flashed and he looked away, taking a knife and chopping ingredients quickly yet precisely in true Snape fashion.

He looked truly incensed, and Hermione's grin faded, replaced with a worried frown. "I didn't mean to tease you," she said. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She had returned to adding ingredients to the cauldron silently when he spoke inaudibly, "You'll…you'll find out soon enough."

Hermione wasn't sure what he meant by it, so she pressed her lips tightly and continued in silence.

**xxx**

"Excellent job, Abbot," Professor McGonagall said with a smile at the girl who had finally managed to transfigure a boot into an owl. A little more than a week of continued practice and nearly the entire class had finally mastered the  _Vivera_  spell.

Hermione stroked the feathers of a bald eagle that was perched up on her desk absently. She had been the first to transform her object into a permanent living, breathing animal.

The second had been Sirius.

She still remembered the triumphant grin when he transformed his basket into a puppy. He'd held it to his chest adoringly, and several students began crowding around him and cooing at the puppy. Sirius caught her gaze amid the chaos of students surrounding him and his grin slipped slowly. Hermione looked away.

If the previous indicators hadn't been enough, today definitely confirmed it. She knew she had the potential of being an Animagus. It was going to be difficult, and she would need to find a place to practice in secret, but she felt it was something necessary. It never hurt to have a little bit of extra magical prowess at her disposal.

Remus transformed his object next, nearly ten minutes after Sirius; James and Peter managed near the end of class. Gryffindor house was awarded twenty points again, and Hermione could see the proud smile playing on McGonagall's lips, a welcome change to the normal unamused disposition.

With cheery smiles and excited chatter on the successful day in Transfiguration, students began filing out of the room. Hermione was in the middle of stuffing her quill and textbook into her bag when Remus came up beside her.

"I never got to congratulate you," he smiled, lightly stroking the eagle's feathers.

"Nonsense, you were just as brilliant today," Hermione replied, though slightly distractedly. The blasted book refused to go inside her bag.

"It usually helps if the zip is open all the way," Remus said dryly, and reached over to tug on the zip.

Hermione huffed. "There's that, of course. What ever would I do without you?"

"Not much with bags, I'm sure."

Hermione laughed and Remus watched her, his lips quirking in a small smile as they left the classroom. She glanced up at him. "Want to walk with me to Defense?" Remus nodded easily and fell in step with her.

Through the corner of his eye he saw Hermione stiffen beside him. Frowning, he followed her gaze and stopped at where James and Sirius were leaning against the opposite wall, talking amiably.

"You should know," Remus said slowly as they continued past them, "they are not bad people. They just have a…different sense of humor. And not a very good one, sometimes."

"I know that," Hermione answered wearily. She looked up at him solemnly. "There's a fine line between pranking and bullying, Remus. And what Sirius and James did was sadistic and cruel."

He nodded, not knowing what else to say. What Hermione said was true...yet, if he were in that position, he wasn't sure if he would've intervened as Hermione did. The thought alone made him bow his head lower.

A sharp spark of pain in his bones made his spine snap straighter, a small hiss escaping his lips. Hermione caught the action and paused, frowning at him with concern. "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

Remus nodded as another burst of pain sidled along his frame. He knew this feeling; it came to him every month, right before the full moon when his body was preparing itself for the inevitable transformation. His senses heightened, his vision sharper, his nose picking up every scent in the vicinity. He felt nauseated, but clenched his jaw and forced out an easy smile. "It seems I'm growing older by the day," he chuckled with a casual grin, suppressing a wince as another crackle of pain shot up his spine. "Old bones."

Hermione nodded but was unconvinced. That was strange. Usually people would have brushed it off and moved along, but he was deeply unsettled at the knowing look that seemed to hover about her. In fact, she looked at him as if she…but no. He barely knew her for less than a month. She couldn't know anything.

They walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Remus still feeling uneasy with her muted stare of understanding.

No, of worry.

She couldn't possibly understand anything.

**xxx**

Night had fallen quickly upon Hogwarts. It was well past midnight, and the occupants of the girls' dormitory in Gryffindor tower were sleeping deeply. Hermione waited until each fervent breath abated, each body ceased to toss and turn in search for a comfortable position on the springy mattresses. It was only then that slowly, Hermione lifted the red covers from her body and planted her feet softly on the cold floor. Reaching under her bed, she retrieved her small bag and pedaled noiselessly to the door.

The common room was empty and dark, save for the dying embers in the fireplace. Hermione deftly slipped out of the portrait hole and closed the door gently, noting with satisfaction that even the Fat Lady did not cease her soft snores.

As she stole silently into the night, Hermione found herself pressed against walls and alcoves numerous times as prefects made their nightly rounds. "This would be much easier with an Invisibility Cloak," Hermione muttered dully, dodging into a crevice mere seconds before the Head Girl rounded the corner and stalked the halls. Once gone, she added, " _And_  the blasted map."

Both of which, Hermione thought with some chagrin, were probably sitting harmlessly in James Potter's school trunk.

Hermione continued down corridor quietly, until she came upon a particular stretch of wall. "Lumos," she muttered.

Concentration etched on her face, she stared at the wall deeply.  _I need someplace where no one will find me._

Slowly the wall began to reshape, shuddering slightly, and a high door stood before her. With a shaky breath, she turned the knob.

The room was large with high walls and tall windows, cathedral pillars mounting the room. The dim wandlight showed stacks and piles of chairs and stools, forgotten cupboards and whirring objects glittering atop chests and emerald pillows. They were things kept hidden, some without purpose and some with far too much.

Things that Tom Riddle would want to keep secret.

As Hermione began her very rigid search, far up in the Gryffindor Tower a restless body tossed around. The boys' dormitory was silent, save for the restless form behind the red and gold curtains. Suddenly the curtains were thrown aside and a towering body slinked over to the adjacent bed.

"James," Sirius whispered. James continued to sleep, a snore escaping his throat. Sirius nudged the sleeping boy hard. " _James_ ," Sirius repeated impatiently.

"Where's muh hippogriff?" James mumbled.

"About to clog you in the nose if you don't wake up for two minutes," Sirius snapped.

James blinked sleepily, " _What?"_

"I'm bored," Sirius said flatly.

"Go find someone else to snog, I'm not in the mood tonight."

A swift punch to the arm made James groan. "Alright, alright, keep you knickers on…" he reached below his bed and fished out a thick parchment. Tossing it to Sirius, James collapsed back against the sheets and grumbled, "Now leave me alone."

Sirius muttered darkly under his breath, "Don't know why  _you_  keep it all the time, can barely remember where your glasses are most days…"

Sirius jumped onto his bed and closed the curtains once more. Lazily leaning against the headboard, he whipped out his wand and muttered,  _"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_."

He found subtle amusement watching Dumbledore pacing his study, and even more seeing McGonagall enter the kitchens in secret.  _Midnight treacle tart, Minerva?_ Sirius chuckled, shaking his head.

Perhaps he should try to roam the entire castle in ten minutes without getting caught? It seemed challenging enough, but it wouldn't be fun without competing with someone. Perhaps he could wake up Remus?

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a name dash quickly into an alcove on the map, right when a prefect was about to pass by. It seemed that he wasn't the only student unable to sleep tonight.

Smiling, he muttered another  _lumos_  to read the name better. His eyes widened.

" _Lumos maxima_ ," he whispered and the light from the tip of his wand grew brighter.

What was Hermione Granger doing out in the dead of night?

Intrigued, he watched her still footsteps wait until the prefect was out of sight. She moved quickly from the alcove and darted down the corridor, twisting and turning, until she slowed down, standing directly in front of a wall.

She stood there for quite a long time. Sirius began getting nervous watching her motionless name. Did something happen to her? What was she doing? There were no other names wandering that hall so nobody could have cursed her in secret. She was just there, standing still.

Her name moved slowly towards the wall and, to his utmost incredulity, she disappeared.

Sirius stared at the map in disbelief.  _What the hell?_  His wand was shaking slightly in his fierce grip. Hermione's name was no longer in sight. It was as if she never existed.

Pulling on a pair of trousers, he whispered a quick  _knox_  and flung silently out of bed, down into the common room, and out the portrait hole without making a sound. Taking a breath, he stared at the map and began to walk.

After a few close calls from wandering prefects, Sirius stood in puzzlement before the wall that Hermione had disappeared through. It was an insignificant stretch of brick. The palm of his hand pressed against the cold surface of the wall, and it was solid. He thought for a moment it was enchanted like platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross, but it was not.

He paced around it, fingers trailing along the wall and then staring at the map. She was still not there, but she was nowhere else in the castle as well. Somehow Hermione was gone, and the answer to how was behind this wall.

He stopped mid-stride when he noticed a shift in the wall, and his trailing fingers were suddenly met with wood.

His eyebrows furrowed. It was a wooden door, right out of nowhere.

Well this was interesting.

" _Mischief managed_ ," he murmured and stuffed the map in his pocket. Holding his wand out in front of him, he grabbed the knob and swung it open.

" _Lumos_."

The door creaked slightly as it opened. Sirius stared blankly.

A broom cupboard.

He stepped inside in disbelief, but it was real. Brooms lined up inside, dust making his nostrils flare as his eyes squinted against the harsh wandlight.

"What the  _hell_ ," he whispered. It was small, and there was no way Hermione had passed through here. He tested the walls with his hands, but they were solid and unmoving.

Running a frustrated hand through his shaggy hair, he stepped out of the broom cupboard and closed the door behind him. Why did a broom closet suddenly appear in the wall when it hadn't been there before? He was growing suspicious feelings for the wall, though they were starting to become more and more positive by the second.

What if…?

Sirius's racing thoughts halted when the wall began to shift again. He backed away and slid against a crevice in the wall. A high black, metal door transformed against the surface of the brick wall. He stood transfixed when the door slowly slid open and a dark figure emerged.

A small sound met his ears and light burst at the tip of a wand, dimly illuminating the corridor. His eyes wandered over brown, messy curls, and fixated on the face that distinctly belonged to Hermione.

She appeared aggravated as she checked her surroundings, making sure that no one was around. Sirius sank deeper against the wall as her eyes scanned over to where he was.

Her eyes squinted and she stood stark still, eyes fixated on where Sirius was hidden. He could feel her alertness emanating from her like sirens. She knew someone was there.

The sound of a moaning ghost snapped Hermione from her reverie, and she quickly doused the light and sprinted off into the dark soundlessly. He commended her swiftness as well as her instincts. Not many witches or wizards could know in an instant that they were being watched in secret, let alone by someone who made it his personal goal to be adept in deception and stealth.

He noted that the iron door was still there, though it was starting to shrink. He strode towards it, hoping to catch a glimpse of the room Hermione so desperately needed to go to.

It was fading fast and Sirius bounded towards it hastily. Grabbing the knob he flung open the door, but the cool brass knob had already turned wooden once he reached it.

Sirius growled in frustration when he was met by another broom cupboard.

"Dammit!" Sirius ground out and slammed the irritating door once more, striding angrily to the marble staircase and up to Gryffindor tower.

He knew this wasn't over. He would find out little innocent Hermione's secret.

And he would thoroughly enjoy himself while he was at it.

**xxx**

Hermione felt an unknown uneasiness befall her during breakfast the next day. As she was spreading butter on a scone, she felt like she was being watched.

Lily was animatedly discussing the Charms essay she already finished, but Hermione was only barely paying attention. Her eyes slid over to where James, Remus, Peter, and Sirius were sitting. They were laughing and talking as they normally would. Her eyes settled on Sirius, noting that he was in the middle of telling a particularly funny joke, causing the entire half of the Gryffindor table to erupt in laughter. He must have noticed her gaze, for he glanced at her pointedly. Hermione flinched and averted her eyes, feeling annoyed that she was yet again caught staring at him. Involuntarily though, her eyes drifted to glance at him again. She had expected him to resume his conversation, but found him gazing at her intently, grey eyes fixated on her.

His lips curled into a smirk, and he gave a wink.

"Are you alright?" Lily's soft inquiry halted the unpleasant thoughts clouding her mind. Nodding, Hermione took a bite of her scone and tried her best not to glance in the direction of Sirius.

On the other side of the Gryffindor table, Sirius was mildly shocked and extremely amused at the reaction he'd managed to rise from Hermione. He hadn't meant to infuriate her. The fact that he'd caught her staring at him was nothing new; several girls and boys more often than not tended to stare at him, though it hardly mattered to Sirius.

He noticed her uneasiness throughout breakfast. Paranoia from last night was most likely the root of her suspicions. He commended her keens senses once more. For in actuality, Hermione wasn't the only one on the Gryffindor table that had done their fair share of stealing glances.

Sirius was doing the same. Every once in a while his eyes would gaze at her momentarily, trying to figure her out. From the day she arrived Sirius couldn't quite place a finger on the feelings she conjured in him. He felt like he recognized her, knew her deeply. But just as quickly he was proven false; he did not know her at all.

But he wanted to. She knew secrets of the castle that no one else did, held secrets that he was certain she'd rather die than tell. He didn't know why he was fixating on it so much, why it bothered him that he both enjoyed her and disliked her, that she seemed to know things that he did not, and not in the way an older student knew things he did not; he did not understand the unbidden curiosity that piqued when her name came up, but it was there. And who was he to deny himself a good investigation?

He didn't like what he saw on the Marauders' map last night, and he felt suspicion creeping inside of him steadily. He didn't like this, he didn't trust her. Hermione Granger was not as innocent as she seemed.

Sirius glanced at her again, trying to detect if she was one to dabble in the dark arts.

With a pang in his heart he glanced over to the Slytherin table, where his younger brother Regulus was seated. It had severely disappointed him when he watched him get sorted into Slytherin, and it had confused him beyond belief. Sirius always thought of his little brother affectionately, and to some degree he still did. But after Regulus's first year, his only friends being the children of known Death Eaters, Sirius felt ill and could no longer interact with him the same. By then Regulus had grown cold towards Sirius, resembling very much like his dear mother increasingly. And all the while, as they had become distant with barely hidden contempt for each other, Sirius couldn't help but feel that he'd failed as a brother.

He sighed and looked away from the blank expression of Regulus when his eyes flickered to his, noticing Sirius's stare.

He watched Hermione take a chunk out of her buttered scone, but her flustered mind was evidently elsewhere, for the moment she bit into the scone it promptly fell from her fingers and plopped down onto the front of her blouse. Her eyes widened and she groaned as the buttered side had conveniently landed on her chest. Her bottom lip pouted indignantly and she began cleaning it off as Lily laughed uproariously.

Sirius began smiling, unknown to himself. If Hermione Granger was a Death Eater, she was a bloody funny one.

**xxx**

The feeling of being watched did not leave all day.

Hermione had tried to pinpoint it on someone, but there was nobody who seemed suspicious enough to be eyeing her so. It was just her own mind.

Why the sudden paranoia? She felt like she was going crazy. This had to stop.

"Hey Hermione?"

Hermione tore away from her thoughts as she looked across from her to see Lily biting her lip nervously. They were studying in the library, several large textbooks spread open all over the table. Hermione furrowed her brow at the strange expression on Lily's face.

"Yes? Are you alright, Lily?"

"Yes," Lily answered quickly, and looked away. Taking a steadying breath, green eyes pierced hers once more. "Have you, er…spoken to Severus lately?"

Hermione paused, staring intently at Lily's face. She seemed apprehensive, which was very unlike the headstrong Gryffindor. And this had to do with Severus, whom she knew was having his own inner turmoil and was avoiding Lily.

"Not very much, no. Just in potions, and he's not much of a talker lately." Hermione watched Lily frown deeply and nod. Hesitantly she asked, "Is something going on? He's been acting very strange lately, even to me."

Lily let out a breath she'd been holding and growled frustratedly, "That's the thing;  _I don't know_. He's been so peculiar and he hasn't been really talking to me—I don't even know why, he's acting like a complete  _arse_  and a lunatic and—why are you smiling?"

Hermione hid her grin and sobered immediately, though mirth still danced in her eyes. "Seems like you're very worried about Severus, Lily."

"Well, you would too if your best friend suddenly went berserk every time he spoke to you!"

Lily and Hermione stared at each other for a moment before collapsing in laughter.

"Whatever the case," Hermione finally managed as their giggles subsided, "I'm sure it's nothing serious. He's just…well, sometimes he's in his own world, I guess. Don't get too worked up on it, give him time. Just out of curiosity," Hermione lowered her voice, "when did he start acting like this? It seems very sudden."

Lily shrugged hopelessly. "I don't really know," she admitted, furrowing a brow in thought. "I guess a week ago, after we walked back from Defense…" she stopped, and heat started rising in her cheeks as they pinkened. "…Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing," Lily said quickly, feigning ignorance. "I guess we'll find out later what Sev's up to, won't we?"

Hermione studied her new friend carefully, deciding to ignore Lily's blatant change of pace. "Yes. Eventually."

They went back to studying, though Hermione's mind was barely paying attention to the ruins etched in the textbook before her. While she did find Severus and Lily's ordeal mildly amusing and almost adorable, she remembered James. Hermione tried her best to keep away from the trio in that respect, for she would rather die than be responsible for a drastic change in the timeline. But the outcome was inevitable. Severus and Lily…though horrible as it was, they would never be.

But that did not mean that Severus would have to endure the pain of finding her lifeless body in Godric's Hollow, or that Lily would have to suffer the fate of death by Voldemort's hand. No; many things would have to change while Hermione was here. Her permanent residence was in 1975—she may as well make sure the horrors of this era did not follow through.

Thank Merlin she had a few years to change history. Hermione suppressed a shudder at the thought of turning time only to arrive in 1981, the year Voldemort did his worst damage.

As Hermione leafed through the pages of her text, a thought struck her mind.

Why hadn't Dumbledore simply sent her back to when Tom Riddle was in school? Or better yet, before he received his Hogwarts letter?

"I'm off to bed, now," Lily announced, and Hermione looked at the time.

"Good heavens, have we been at this for five hours?" Hermione said disbelievingly. It felt like merely minutes had passed.

"Well, we can't be the brightest witches in our year studying like Potter and Black, now, can we?" Lily teased, stretching in her seat and sighing. "Speaking of which…they haven't been pulling their usual stunts these past few weeks. Looks like they took your warning to heart."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes…very strange…"

"To think all these years of trying to get them to back off, and all I needed was you to do the talking," Lily smiled as she gathered her books and stuffed them in her bag. "Let's head out, shall we?"

Hermione nodded her head in agreement and rose from her seat, stretching until her back cracked. It was best to get some rest before she headed out again tonight, and every subsequent night for that matter. She refused to waste any time here.

The stepped inside the portrait tiredly, Hermione trailing behind Lily as they trudged inside the common room.

"I wouldn't do that," Lily said, noting that Hermione was heading to collapse in one of the armchairs. "You really should just head up to the dorm; it'll make life a lot easier."

"I'll be up in a minute," Hermione assured, rubbing her shoulder slightly. "I just need that massage therapy these wonderful chairs seem to provide." Lily laughed and Hermione grinned, "Night, Lily."

Lily smiled. "Goodnight, Hermione."

Hermione turned back to the armchairs around the fireplace and almost immediately groaned at her mistake. Among the other students in the common room, the two people she did not feel like interacting with were sitting by the only vacant armchair. Sighing in defeat, she shuffled over to the chair and sank down, and an involuntary sigh of pleasure erupted from her throat. She could feel all the knots in her back and shoulders beginning to loosen.

"Alright there, Granger?" James said, glancing at her over the newspaper in his hands. He was sitting beside her in the armchair.

"Magnificent," Hermione mumbled, her eyes closed as she tried to soak in as much comfort from the chairs before heading to her dormitory.

Hearing no response back, Hermione opened one bleary eye to study James. He was looking at her strangely.

"What?" Hermione snapped.

"Nothing," James said quickly. "Just that, you know...that's the first thing you've said to me in weeks."

"Good to know you're paying attention," was her tired response, but she felt a twinge of regret. It was true; she hadn't spoken to him for weeks. But she had good reason to, and that was justification enough, Still, she couldn't be on bitter terms with James, or even Sirius, forever. She had to remind herself that they were young and reckless teenagers, and that the boy next to her was her best friend's father. Would-be father, if he ever gathered his wits and presented himself to Lily without making out to be a complete tosser. She should have expected and remembered that Severus Snape used to be bullied fervently by the Marauders. But something inside her snapped when she saw it first-hand.

"Look," James started uneasily, "About...you know...we went too far. It was a shite thing to do."

Hermione looked at him. "It's not me you should be saying this to."

James blinked. "Apologize to Snivellous? Fat chance!"

"Then you've learned nothing!" Hermione said incredulously.

"It's not that! You don't know what he does to us either, Hermione," said James, annoyed. "He throws curses,  _dark_ curses—you've no idea what he can do."

"But I know what you can."

She turned away from the crestfallen look James gave her, sighing. "Teenagers, honestly..." she muttered. "Yes, well, I suppose acknowledgement that you did something wrong  _is_  a start."

"I do agree with you there," a deep voice cut in a few feet away. "Perhaps I should follow James's example."

Hermione looked over to the seat beside James. Sirius smiled at her. "Fancy seeing you here, Hermione. Usually you stay ten feet away from us."

"The door swings both ways," Hermione retorted, readjusting herself in the armchair so she could face them more directly, "and as far as I remember, you scuttled away from me with your tail between your legs each time we crossed paths."

James barked out a laugh, but Sirius merely smiled at her warmly. "You don't want to know what's between my legs, love."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut. James began laughing in earnest and Sirius remained his cool gaze on her.

"And with that, I'm off to bed," Hermione muttered, and with heavy feet she pushed herself up from the squishy armchair.

"Oh, don't be like that," James called. "I have something for you, anyway."

Hermione turned back slightly. "What is it?"

"A letter from Mum," James answered, holding out a sheet of folded parchment. "She wants to know if you want to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays or if you want to go home."

"Home?" Hermione repeated. Her voice sounded weak for a moment, and James scrutinized her carefully.

"Yeah," he said slowly, "you know, with us?"

She swallowed. Why did that not cross her mind? Of course she'd be staying with the Potters indefinitely, even going to stay with them over the holidays. She and James would be living together for the next few years.

Hermione's eyes slid over to Sirius, who was gazing at her intently as the flickering flames in the fireplace cast obscure shadows around his face, leaving his expression indistinguishable. Her eyes widened.

As would Sirius.

He would be living with the Potters soon, sometime when he was already sixteen, and that was not far at all.

"Yes, of course," she answered a little breathlessly, and took the offered parchment. She attempted a smile. "I'll be sure to write that I'd love to come over for the holidays."

James began to smile and nodded, though he was still watching her carefully. Sirius said nothing.

"Well then. Goodnight."

The two Marauders replied in kind, and Hermione escaped to the girls' dormitory in relief.

It was going to be a long three years at Hogwarts.

Once Sirius was sure that Hermione was indeed gone into her dorm, he turned to James earnestly. "She's a bit strange, that one."

James nodded absently, still staring at the door to the girls' dormitory. "She's been through a lot. It's understandable, I guess, forgetting that I'm her…well…surrogate family of sorts now."

Sirius contemplated this for a while, staring into the fire.

"There's something else about her, James."

James looked at him closely. "What do you mean?"

Sirius looked away from the flames and into the brown eyes of the bespectacled young man before him. "Last night, when I took the map from you, I saw her on it. She was out of bed in the middle of the night."

"So?" James shrugged. "We do that all the time. I'd be disappointed if she didn't do her own sneaking around Hogwarts; wouldn't be a true Gryffindor otherwise."

"That's not it, James," Sirius said fervently, lowering his voice. "I saw her on the map. She was on the seventh floor, dodging prefects and whatnot. Then she went to this wall, and she just stood there. For a really long time. And then, the next thing I know, she's walking towards the wall and right and up disappears!"

"What do you mean, 'disappears'? Nobody disappears on the map," James said disbelievingly, alarm touched on his handsome features. "It's bloody foolproof."

"It is," Sirius agreed, "but this is different. I…I decided to go see for myself. I stood in front of the wall, just as she did and…and then some sort of door appeared, and it was a broom cupboard, and it was really stupid, and I got frustrated and walked out, but right when I did the door began changing form into a large, iron door and Hermione stepped out of it. She's discovered something about the castle that nobody else knows. That we didn't know, and that even the map cannot detect."

James was silent for a long time, taking all the new information in. Finally he said, "Did you tell Remus and Peter? What do they think?"

Sirius shook his head. "I didn't tell anyone yet, never got the chance. This is what I was getting to before Lily and Hermione walked through the portrait." He sighed, raking a confused hand through his black locks. "There's something odd about that girl, James. I don't know whether it's good or it's bad just yet, but she's different. She's not one we should underestimate."

James mused for a while. "I reckon, Sirius," James said slowly, "that we take a little stroll out tonight under the cloak."

The two boys retired to their dorms and laid stark still in bed. It was until they were certain that everyone had gone to sleep that James sauntered over to Sirius's bed and drew the curtains around them.

"Let's see what our mysterious lady of the night will do this evening," James whispered, and pointed his wand at the map.

Hermione Granger was still in her dormitory, her name hovering innocently among several other Gryffindor girls. It was nearly an hour later when she finally stirred.

Sirius and James were prepared. They watched her name drift slowly from the dormitory to outside the portrait hole. The pair slinked out of the common room and snuck underneath the cloak, rendering them invisible instantly.

Sirius guided them to the wall he knew Hermione was headed to. They slowed their pace as they approached it, and Sirius could make out Hermione's mass of curls and lithe form in the faint light.

James watched in awe as the wall opposing her began shifting, and a door appeared before her, high and metal, just as Sirius had described. Hermione went in and the door melted back into a brick formation. A quick  _lumos_  over the map told showed him all the proof he needed. Hermione was no longer there.

"Now what?" James asked, looking at Sirius questioningly.

"Now…we figure out this bloody hunk of brick."

At first the same thing kept showing up: a broom cupboard. Sirius grew increasingly frustrated and swore loudly, much to James's disapproval.

"A black door appeared for Hermione," James mused deeply. "She clearly had something else in mind." Realization dawned over James. Rushing to the wall, he gestured for Sirius to step away a little. He complied, watching James curiously.

James touched the wall and paced along side it slowly. He halted in the center, and watched the wall expectantly.

Sirius gaped when the wall began taking form of giant double doors with brass knobs and intricate detailing. James glanced back at Sirius. "Come on, mate."

James opened the door and the two stepped inside cautiously. Sirius prepared to cast  _lumos_  but realized it was unnecessary.

The room was enormous and lit candles illuminated the room, engulfing it with bright yellow light completely. There was a gigantic bathtub in the center of the room with dozens of little knobs everywhere. To the side were rows and rows of sofas of all different sizes with two crackling fireplaces near it, and to the right were two very large, very soft-looking, king-sized beds with silk sheets.

Sirius let out an astonished laugh, clapping James on the back. "You did it, Potter! Fuck, this is amazing!"

"At least we figured out one thing, tonight," James grinned. "This room is fantastic."

"How did you do it? What is this room?"

"I realized, after your several failed attempts with the broom cupboard," James replied with a smirk, "that the wall is to our bidding. It gave Hermione that door, didn't it? And you were probably expecting something insignificant, which is why you kept getting that closet." James looked at Sirius excitedly. "It's a room that gives us what we want, Sirius," he paced around the large room in wonder. "I asked the wall if it could give me a place where I could relax and forget the world, and I had this kind of thing in mind. And the room gave it to me."

Sirius couldn't take the grin off of his face. "I cannot  _wait_  to tell Remus and Peter."

As they explored the room, they realized some restrictions. Food was a no-go. Sometimes things randomly appeared inside the room when either one of them were idly thinking about a particular object. It gave them whatever they needed freely.

"What shall we call this place, Sirius?" James asked lazily as they lounged on one of the sofas.

Sirius thought about it for a while. He wished he had a quill or parchment that he could write a list of possible names. Suddenly he felt something roll by his left foot. Leaning over the sofa, he saw a neatly rolled piece of parchment and a quill and ink bottle lay innocently by his sofa near his foot.

Slowly, a grin began to spread across his face. "We shall call it the Room of Requirement."

**xxx**

James and Sirius wasted no time to tell Remus and Peter about the mysterious room. In their excitement last night they did not notice Hermione slip back into the girls' dormitory, and it was only when James remembered about the map that they saw her name climb through the portrait hole.

All four Marauders began exploring the miracle of Hogwarts, and watched each night as Hermione slipped from her dormitory to the wall. No matter how hard they tried, they could not enter to where she disappeared into. After the first few attempts, they gave up altogether, deducing that it was probably one of the many secrets about the Room of Requirement.

The week progressed, and the Marauders knew that the time was coming. Remus was beginning to look more and more ill as the days passed, and his senses were sharpened to the point that he could not walk even twenty feet near a piece of bacon without gagging. "It smells of blood and death," Remus hissed in disgust at Peter's prodding.

Hermione caught on to Remus's sickness quickly, knowing full well that the full moon would be approaching. He would sit in class stiffly, breathing through his mouth so that he wouldn't have to smell the vicious scents of girls' perfumes and the other odd things brewing in the classrooms. She felt a pang of sadness for him. She thought once that she could brew a wolfsbane potion for him, but knew that in doing so she would be revealing not only something that could irreparably damage the time stream if anyone else were to discover her brew, but she would be revealing her true nature as a time traveler. She sighed heavily and watched sadly as one of her good friends in the future suffered miserably.

It must have been so lonely for him. Hermione thought of Remus standing inside the shrieking shack once a month, alone, waiting for his body to start shifting into a bloodthirsty animal. All by himself, as a young teenage boy. Heck, he had been doing this alone all his life. He must have been terrified when he first transformed.

Remus began noticing small things too. He was keeping a close eye on the new student after the discovery of her actions at midnight, and of her unwitting discovery of the Room of Requirement all on her own. And what he discovered was very strange.

Whenever she was with him he felt her give off the impression of deep friendship and understanding. This made completely no sense, for they were not fast friends yet and the only people on the planet that truly understood him were Peter, James, and Sirius.

He also noticed her reactions when Sirius was around. Mostly she was annoyed. But other times, when she thought nobody was looking, he could feel her heartbeat race just at the sight of him, and it wasn't in anger. Her eyes betrayed her emotions easily at this time, for she gazed at him deeply, with a mixture of sadness and something a little more.

The night of the full moon arrived quickly. Remus felt sick all day, and it was not because of the aches and pains in his body. It was the sick anticipation of his first transformation of the school year. The first day among many that he would be stuck inside an abandoned shack to change into a monster. He wished he could kill the bastard that did this to him, that ripped any sense of normalcy from his life. Forever he was cursed.

Night dwindled, and it was when dusk arrived that Remus trudged out into the common room. Hermione was sitting near the fireplace, head buried inside an Ancient Runes book. She glanced up and saw him approach the portrait hole.

She didn't question him, so he gave a nervous smile. "Not feeling well," he explained lamely. "Thought I'd head to the hospital wing."

"And he's got his best friends to escort him," a raucous voice said loudly, and the forms of James, Peter, and Sirius walked over to where Remus was standing. "Don't want you collapsing halfway to the hospital wing, now, do we?" James said in mock concern.

Remus smiled tightly and glanced over to Hermione, who had that expression of sympathy that she'd held for him this past week. It made him anxious.

"Well…I'm off."

He stepped out into the portrait hole and felt his trio of friends follow behind him. He heard them joking and laughing, trying to cheer Remus's spirits.

Finally it was Peter that interrupted his thoughts. "It's just another transformation, Remus," he said lightly. "It'll be over before you know it."

"He's right," James agreed, slinging an arm casually around his shoulders. "It's just once a month. Ten months this schoolyear. Ten days of this nonsense. It'll be fine, we're right here for you."

Remus nodded, but couldn't help the anxiety of what was to come. The full moon was there, rising inevitably into the night sky. He only had a matter of minutes before his bones would break into impossible pieces.

They arrived at the statue that would bring him straight into the Shrieking Shack. He turned around one last time to look at his friends. He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, mates."

He received several claps on the back and a few dirty jokes, and soon he found himself walking alone in the dark passageway. After a few minutes he arrived at a wooden hatch and he lifted it up, climbing up into the shack completely.

Slowly he stripped himself of his clothes, folding them neatly and tucking them into the passageway entrance, then shut the hatch and locked it. He shivered slightly against the cool night air, and looked up at the high windows, waiting for the streak of moonlight to fall inside. His naked skin felt goosebumps and he breathed in deeply, trying to calm his nerves.

His eyes wandered to the window again, and he saw, clear as day, the full circle of the moon.

His spine snapped, and Remus gritted his teeth. His shoulders popped, his legs tensed as they gave out and his knees crashed onto the hardwood floor. He could feel the warmth of his blood already sliding against the floorboards. There was always blood.

His fingers cracked, knuckles whitening, and he saw through his peripherals that his hair was sliding down his face, lengthening. He let out a moan as he doubled over, his body breaking into pieces then remolding into another body. His eyes glazed and he began seeing red, prompting him to squeeze his eyes shut. The faintest trace of tears kissed his skin.

"Fuck," he ground out, helpless against the movements and cracks his body made. His heart started beating fast, and racing thoughts about how if anyone ever found out about him, about him being a werewolf, they would never speak to him again. He saw a flash of curly brown hair and a look of horror etched upon a beautiful face, and his heart screamed in agony. " _Fuck_ ," he whispered helplessly, gritting his teeth.

A loud crash across the room forced his streaming eyes open. He crawled into a sitting position, trying to see where the noise came from. His tunnel vision caught sight of a dark form lingering a few feet ahead of him.

He was not alone.

His eyes widened. "No," he breathed, and then sharply cried out as his body began to fully transform. The figure approached him slowly, as if it were in the same agony he was in. But for some reason, Remus could tell that he enjoyed it.

"I could smell you a mile away," a voice rasped thickly. "I knew you'd come here to play. Do you want to play?"

"Get the  _fuck_  awa—" he screamed before he could finish, and his body twisted and contorted on the floor. The last thing he heard was rich laughter promptly turning into a growl.

**xxx**

The Marauders didn't come back to the common room for several hours. Hermione had grown tried from studying and was not up to another night hunting for Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem for another day. The bloody room was too big. It would take her ages to find Voldemort's horcrux.

She stared out the window and saw the full moon, and knew Remus Lupin had already transformed into his werewolf form. A wave of sadness hit her. He must feel so alone each time during the change. It saddened her beyond belief that Remus had such a large burden to bear for the rest of his life.

Somewhere along the line Hermione had fallen asleep curled along the sofa, and did not notice the portrait hole opening and closing. Soft voices filled her consciousness.

"What's she still doing here?"

"Must've studied her little Gryffindor rear off," a deep voice said mirthfully.

"Should we wake her?"

"I'll do it. You and Peter should go on up, I'll be there in a minute."

After a bit of shuffling, Hermione felt her arm being shaken lightly, a gentle voice saying, "Hermione?" Her arm shook again. "Hermione, come on and sleep up to your room. You'll get a massive cramp sleeping down here."

"Hmm," was all she managed, rolling onto her side and wanting to sleep. She heard a deep chuckle.

"Have it your way, then."

She felt hands loop around her back and under her knees and she felt herself being lifted up. Immediately her eyes few open and met silvery ones above her.

"Sirius Black, you put me down!" she shrieked as he held her easily in his arms.

"Sorry love, I can't trust you to do this on your own. You'll fall asleep on the stairs."

"I will not!" she said hotly, squirming in his arms. She couldn't help but notice how warm he was against her and how each time he spoke she could feel the rumble of his chest against her skin.

"Would you rather I dropped you?" He was met by silence and glare. Sirius's face transformed into a blank mask. "As you wish."

She felt his grip loosen and Hermione squeaked, immediately looping her arms around his neck tightly, bringing herself closer to him. She could faintly smell sandalwood and grass against his skin. She ignored his deep chuckling sent shivers of pleasure down her spine and straight down her abdomen.

"Gently," she reprimanded. "No need to drop me like I'm made of fire."

"I would never," Sirius grinned. He lowered her legs down onto the floor and Hermione planted her feet firmly on the ground. She didn't remove her arms around his neck.

Sirius's eyes darkened as he felt their close proximity, her body flush against his. Hermione didn't know why she couldn't let him go, or why a small, tiny part of her never wanted to either.

"This is the part," Sirius whispered quietly, "where you let go and slap me for touching you."

"Right," Hermione breathed, sliding her arms down his shoulders and ending on the muscles of his upper arms. "I'm too tired to slap you, though. Any other suggestions?"

Sirius smiled slowly, his eyes soft. "I have plenty of suggestions, Miss Granger. I just don't think you'd want to hear any of them."

"Really?" her voice came out an octave higher than normal, causing Sirius's grin to widen. "That's, er, that's very unfortunate." God, what was wrong with her? Why was babbling like a twelve-year-old? And  _why couldn't she step away from him?_

"Indeed," Sirius replied. "You know, I honestly have no idea what we're talking about right now."

Hermione smiled wryly.

"You are full of mysteries, Hermione Granger," Sirius's words snapped her from her racing thoughts. He was gazing at her intensely, partly in intrigue and partly in frustration. "Sometimes I don't know what to think of you."

"You should probably hate me," Hermione shrugged.

"And why is that?"

Licking her dry lips, she replied, "I made you cease your most favorite sport of tormenting a Slytherin."

"I'll live," he answered tightly, barely controlling the wave of emotions that threatened to leak into his voice. "Besides, there's a hundred other Slytherins to choose from."

"You shouldn't hate them just because they're in that house," Hermione said sternly. Her eyes flickered to the movement of his head, noting it drew closer. Her grip on his biceps tightened. "Not…not everybody sorted in that house is pure evil."

"Really?" his voice was challenging. "Name me one."

Hermione furrowed her brow at his request. "Why just one?"

"You have more?"

"I can list the entire House, Sirius."

Sirius laughed. "You're barking. Do you know what kind of people are in Slytherin?"

"And do you know what kind of people are in Gryffindor? Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff? Honestly," Hermione scowled, frowning, "anybody in Slytherin is not automatically a Death Eater. You don't know every single Slytherin, you can't collectively deduce they're all pure evil."

"I most certainly  _can._ Does it not strike you as surprising that all Death Eaters have been in Slytherin?"

"The ones you know of, maybe," Hermione said lightly. Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"Do you know any other Death Eaters that  _weren't_  Slytherin?"

"Well. No," Hermione admitted. "But I also don't the whole list of Death Eaters, either."

"There we go, then," said Sirius smugly.

"No, we don't go! That's not logical," Hermione said frustratedly.

"It is. You'll see. You've only been here a month, you don't know yet," Sirius shrugged easily. "Rotten to the core. Hurling curses, whispering amongst each other—"

"You're angry that they  _whisper?_ " Hermione laughed incredulously, and Sirius glared.

"It's the subject of their whispering!" he said heatedly. "There's no good Slytherin, Hermione. It's best if you learn that early on."

Hermione looked at him carefully. He was being extremely stubborn, more than Sirius normally would be. There was something more to this...

Hermione looked at Sirius steadfastly. "There's Severus Snape."

Sirius paused. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"Severus Snape is not  _evil_ , Sirius."

"And my mother is a saint," he retorted. "The bloke's got it in for him, Hermione. He's not the little angel you make him out to be. He doesn't hesitate to cast hexes at us, before any of us even do anything, yet I don't see you defending  _our_  honor."

"That's different," Hermione answered, though she understood where he was coming from. "And I'm not fool. I don't paint him as anything but himself."

"Then you see where I'm coming from?"

Hermione sighed deeply. Dropping her hands to her sides, she stepped back.

"I do. I really do." Yawning a bit, she ran a hand through her mass of flyaway curls. "It's getting late. I think I'll head in."

She didn't move though. She was transfixed by the curious expression Sirius had etched on his face. "Is something wrong?"

He stepped close to her. "You're not a Death Eater in disguise, are you?"

Hermione laughed incredulously. "Never. I don't think I exactly qualify, anyway, what with muggle parents and all."

"Good. Because I'd like to test a theory."

"What theo—"

Quick as lightning, Sirius leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.

It was over just as quickly, and Hermione wondered if it had actually happened or not. But the tingling on her lips and the flutter in her belly could not be mistaken.

"Hm," said Sirius, looking at her with an unreadable expression.

"What," Hermione said slowly, just above a whisper, "was that for." Hermione's eyes flickered over Sirius's shoulder, catching a glimpse of the window. "Remus?"

Sirius chuckled breathlessly. "It's Sirius, love. Merlin, I guess it's a tragedy when you kiss a girl and she says your best mate's name instead."

"No, no, it's  _Remus_ ," Hermione said, turning fully around to look out the window. "He's outside, he's looks wounded...someone's with him!"

"What?"

Sirius moved beside her. "What the  _hell_ …?"

Hermione's eyes grew the size of saucers. Remus was crawling beside the Whomping Willow, presumably from the little entrance by the trunk. He was completely bare and had numerous scratches and bruises all down his body, blood covering every inch of his skin, and he was not alone.

The second figure was close to him, and grabbed Remus's hair derisively. Hermione shrieked when he pulled back and kicked him viciously in the ribs.

"YOU FUCKER!" Sirius roared, backing away as to run out of the portrait hole and save his friend.

"Sirius, wait!" Hermione cried. The Willow began moving, and one of the branches snagged the torso of the standing stranger and whipped him into the air, hurtling him a hundred feet away and crashing him into the lip of the Forbidden Forest. Sirius pressed against the glass as he watched the stranger weakly stand and sprint into the forest.

Both Hermione and Sirius watched tensely and without breathing as they refocused their attention to the battered form of Remus by the Whomping Willow. He began stirring slowly.

"Come on, Remus, touch the knot…" Sirius whispered desperately, his fist pounding helplessly against the glass. Remus crawled sluggishly against the grass and leaned against the trunk of the tree, weakly pushing against a knot on its surface. The violent movements of the willow ceased, and without another second's hesitation, he slid back down into the hole and disappeared.

Hermione was dumbstruck, not knowing what exactly she had just witnessed. She backed away slowly from the window and from Sirius, whose expression she could only identify as murderous. He backed away too, his hands trembling, his body stiff.

"Sirius?" she said tentatively. He did not move. Hesitantly she moved closer to him, lifting a hand to touch his arm. "Sirius?" she repeated as her fingers grazed his forearm.

Sirius snapped his eyes up at her and she couldn't breathe. She had never seen such fury in anyone's eyes, such a rampage of tumultuous emotions.

"Let's go," he said, and grabbing her arm, he pulled her to the portrait hole and led them out.

"Where are we going?" Hermione said a little breathlessly at their furious pace.

"To the willow."

"No, Sirius, we need to go to Dumbledore," Hermione replied earnestly. "He needs to know that Remus was attacked tonight."

"I can't just leave him out there," Sirius snapped angrily.

"He's in the tree. The strange man is gone. He's safe for now," Hermione answered evenly. "Two fifteen-year-olds can't catch the man who did that to him. We need Professor Dumbledore not just for Remus, but to capture the sadistic bastard that did this to him."

Sirius was still furious, and she could tell it was taking a lot of self-restraint from just ignoring her and letting his instincts guide him instead, but he nodded grudgingly. They walked to Dumbledore's office and stopped in front of it.

"Do you know the password?" Sirius asked tensely.

Hermione didn't. Taking a breath she said tentatively, "Lemon Drop?"

Nothing.

"Pumpkin Pasty?"

"Lemon Meringue?"

"Mince Pie?"

"Sugar Quill?"

The gargoyle sprung to life and Sirius glanced at her questioningly before stepping inside after Hermione. They walked to Dumbledore's study and Hermione took a breath, then knocked on the door.

Albus Dumbledore was always one to hold the wisdom of a lifetime. Everything he ever said was filled with sentimental thoughts and logic beyond comprehension. Above all, he was filled with genuine kindness that touched her deeply.

However, it was foolish to think that he gained the title of 'greatest wizard of all time' by smiling genially. When Sirius recounted the story, Dumbledore had a fierce expression that she had not seen since after the fiasco in the Ministry of Magic in her fifth year in her own time. After Sirius's death, after Voldemort's escape…

The staff brought up Remus's motionless body to the Hospital Wing where Madame Pomfrey attended to him instantly. Sirius and Hermione remained outside, waiting for the okay to go see Remus. As they waited, they knew Hagrid had been informed to search the Forbidden Forest along with a few other teachers to find the stranger who had beaten Remus during his transformation. They also concluded that the stranger had to be a werewolf himself to survive being alone with Remus during the night.

Which only increased Hermione's worries tenfold.

Hermione glanced at Sirius as he leaned against a wall with his eyes closed. He seemed so closed-off, like something had shut down inside him the moment he saw his best friend's mangled body by the willow. Knowing him for many years, Hermione knew he felt helpless and even guilty for what had happened, and how he couldn't be by his best friend's side to help him.

Hermione was about to approach him when McGonagall walked towards them, and she saw James and Peter scurrying close behind him. Evidently she'd woken them up after the attack on Remus.

James and Peter rushed to Sirius, where they began talking furiously and angrily. Not sparing her a glance, the trio marched solemnly inside the hospital wing when Madame Pomfrey gave them permission to visit Remus briefly.

Hermione shivered against the cool night air, staring at the spot where Sirius had once been standing. Taking a shuddering breath, she walked into the hospital wing.

Hermione eyes were met by the three of them standing beside Remus's bed. James touched his arm lightly and then bent his head silently. Sirius had his hands in his pockets. Peter looked devastated.

Hermione lingered behind a little, giving them their space. Remus looked well-healed, though his face still had cuts and bruises. The horrific sight of a bloodied body was no more. Now, Remus looked almost peaceful.

She was startled when she saw his eyes fly open. The Marauders gasped, and James stepped forward and murmured something gently. Remus didn't appear to hear him. Instead, he breathed in deeply and then turned his head slowly to look at where Hermione was standing.

She shifted nervously as the other three followed suit, eyeing her in confusion. Hermione's eyes were locked onto the young werewolf as he stared at her with bottomless eyes. She moved forward slowly, until she reached his bedside. Remus continued to stare at her.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.  _What a stupid question_ , she thought to herself.

Remus gazed at her anxiously, his breathing starting to increase. Hermione began to step away before Remus's hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. She was shocked to find how much strength and desperation was in his grasp.

Quietly, as if a whisper, Remus croaked, "Please don't hate me."

Hermione shook her head, swallowing thickly as she bit her lip. "I could never hate you."

Remus exhaled and his grip on her wrist slackened, until it rested against the bed once more. Hermione looked up slowly at the boys standing beside her, and they gave her an expression of disbelief and wonder.

**xxx**

"It will take a lot of practice," Sirius said seriously. "It's not going to be easy."

"We  _know_ ," James said for the millionth time. "We know the risks, Sirius. We're willing to take it."

"And don't you dare ask us if we're sure," Peter said darkly. "We have to be there for him. This isn't even a question."

Sirius looked over at his two best friends and nodded in agreement. "Okay, then. It's settled. When do you guys want to begin?"

"Tomorrow night after dinner," James suggested. "We can use the Room of Requirement to practice in. Tonight we should think of what animal we'll be transforming into."

"Are you sure that's how it works?" Peter asked. "I thought it just…I don't know…came to you automatically. We just have to put our own magic into it. Wandlessly, of course."

"Well you get what I mean," James snapped. "Tomorrow night, our sessions begin."

"Tighten up, boys," Sirius said gravely. "Tonight, we're just wizards. Tomorrow, we'll be beginner Animagi."


	5. The Lake

**Chapter Five**

_The Lake_

News of Remus's stay at the Hospital Wing did not come as breaking news, much to Hermione's surprise. It seemed that the student body of Hogwarts had grown quite accustomed to Remus being frequently ill , thus when he did not turn up for classes the next day, or the day after that, no one questioned it. In some respect it was very fortunate, for had they visited Remus in the Hospital Wing, the sight of his battered body would have made them blanch in shock.

She also had not spoken to Sirius since the night in the Gryffindor common room. What had happened in the common room was...strange. And entirely at odds with everything Sirius and Hermione had projected at each other up until that moment. She was big enough to admit that there was some sort of—attraction—but she knew he was suspicious of her and Hermione knew she did not want to cross certain boundaries. She didn't want to think of it.

But what had he meant? That he'd been testing a theory?

Sirius in turn had been spending copious amounts of time with James and Peter, even more than usual. They would disappear during lunch and dinner, giving excuses of "tired" and "loads of studying to catch up on". Lily found their behavior gratifying, sighing in relief during lunch that she did not have to put up with James's silly antics at every hour of the day. Though Hermione was no fool. She could tell that a very, very small part of Lily was a little disappointed with his absence as her eyes furtively glanced at the double doors every once in a while.

It was three days after the attack on Remus that Hermione had finally gathered the courage to go and visit him in the Hospital Wing. A package of chocolates in one hand (graciously prepared by the Hogwarts house elves) and a card in the other, Hermione strode to the Hospital Wing during lunch.

The corridor was mostly deserted, save for a few wandering ghosts gliding through the walls. It was a beautiful day outside, and most of the Hogwarts students were eating their lunches out on the grassy courtyards or by the Black Lake. Hermione could feel the warmth of the sunlight against her skin, streaks of gold seeping through the windows.

Hermione slipped through the door quietly, noting that it was empty. Madame Pomfrey was most likely in the back, stirring up some healing potions and concoctions as usual.

All of the beds were neatly made, white linen sheets tucked tightly across the springy mattresses. Remus was lying on the far left side of the room, an empty glass on the bedside table as well as a stack of books and parchment. Hermione regarded these with amusement; it seemed even Remus was not wont to slack off and get behind in his studies, a habit probably formed in his first year due to his frequent disappearances after his transformations.

Currently he was asleep. Hermione approached his bedside quietly, watching him in his slumber. He looked so young, so much younger than Hermione ever remembered seeing him as, even when she arrived in this time. His face had cleared up from the abuse he received three nights ago, and not a speck of blood or a gash across his face was in sight.

He really was quite handsome. It made her heart pang that for so long in his life he never felt like he deserved to be loved, to get close to anybody. James, Sirius, and Peter were his best friends, yes, but Remus kept himself reserved most of the time, always polite but never intrusive. Even with Tonks, whom she knew he would later on marry, he was so vehement against their relationship in the beginning.

Leaning over, she placed the card on the table beside him. She froze as her eyes fell onto his face once more.

He seemed so…alone.

Hermione did not know how long she'd been staring at him when suddenly his eyes snapped open and his hand lurched in the air, grasping her throat. Hermione gasped for air as he stared at her wildly. The hand that still held the package of chocolates began trembling and she dropped it onto the bed, trying her best with both hands to remove the fingers wrapped around her throat.

"Remus," Hermione gasped, "stop—it's—Hermione." He did not relent. "Hurting—me—" she choked out. Her eyes began seeing stars.

Her words seemed to sink in and he threw himself off, eyes regaining some recognition. Hermione began coughing violently, fingers massaging her bruised throat.

Remus stiffened when he saw what he'd done, anguish on his face as he stared at the hand that had been wrapped around her neck.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized desperately, as Hermione began to regain some composure. "I—I don't know why I did that. I guess you startled me."

"That's…that's alright," Hermione rasped, attempting a small smile as her fingers delicately massaged the abused skin of her throat. "It's understandable. You've had a rough few days."

There was an awkward silence between them, Remus looking more miserable than ever and Hermione shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She saw the package of chocolates lying forgotten on the bed and she said, "I got those for you."

Remus's eyes snapped up, then followed her gaze to where the package was lying on the blanket, just above his knees.

He reached out and grasped it in his hands, examining it. "These seem homemade," he noted. He glanced up at her kindly. "They look delicious."

"I had the, ah, house elves in the kitchens make them for me," she replied lamely.

He shrugged. "All the same. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said softly. Remus placed the chocolates by his bedside and saw the card she'd made. "Is that for me as well?"

Heat crept up her cheeks as he picked it up and studied it with a small, hesitant smile. He looked at her in disbelief. "You didn't have to do this for me, you know."

"Why not?" she asked with a frown. "You're my friend and you got hurt. You deserve some coddling."

His eyes watched her warily before going downcast. "Right."

Hermione watched him place the card back on the table and sat up in bed a little stiffly. Her eyes narrowed.

"Why are you doing this?" Remus did not reply. She sighed angrily. "Why are you making this so much more complicated than it needs to be?"

"Because I don't think you realize who you're dealing with right now," he said calmly, refusing to meet her eyes. "And when you do—"

"What? What am I going to do? Run down the hallways screaming ' _Werewolf!_ '?" Remus flinched and looked up at her.

"Yes," he said defensively.

Her eyes went dark. "Well then, Lupin, you're not as bright a person I thought you were." She took a step back, stopping herself from saying things that she knew she'd regret. She understood where he was coming from, why he would be so mistrustful of her. He'd lived a lifetime hiding this part of his life from others, and he was not a stranger to alienation and condemnation when people did find out that he was a werewolf.

That didn't mean that his actions weren't infuriating her!

Taking a steadying breath, her face dropped the glare and looked at him steadily. She stepped towards the bed and sat at the edge by his knees. Remus looked at her in surprise.

"Of all people, Remus…" she started, "I am the last to discriminate. You being a werewolf…" she shook her head. "It's just a part of your life that you have no control over. It doesn't make you any less brilliant than you were last week. You're still you. You're still my friend. And…I'm not about to go telling people about you. That's your private life, and you have the right to deal with it however you wish."

Remus was silent, stunned by her words. She knew she laid it on pretty thick with her understanding, but he needed to know that she just didn't bloody  _care_ , nor would she ever.

"You mean to say…that finding out about my condition has absolutely no effect on you?"

"Right."

"And that you see me no differently than what I was before you found out?"

"Precisely."

"Are you jesting?"

The edges of her mouth quirked. "Absolutely not."

Remus was silent for a long time, contemplating her deeply. His eyes flickered over her face, down to her entire self, wondering what creature was sitting before him. Without another word, he reached to the package of chocolates on the table and began unwrapping it slowly. Hermione had to fight off a smile at how positively adorable awkward-Remus was.

He fished out a truffle and held it in his palm. Then, slowly, he took a bite. "This is wonderful," he said quietly. She could tell there was more meaning behind his words.

Hesitantly he held out the plastic wrappings toward her with the chocolate filled inside. Eyes locked with his, she took out one as well and brought it to her lips.

"Yes," she agreed softly. "It's wonderful."

**xxx**

"FUCK!"

A chair was thrown across the room and crashed violently against the wall, sending chunks of wood flying in each direction.

"Now Sirius, you know that chair did nothing to you. Such a wasted death," James said somberly, waving his wand in the air and repairing the chair with ease.

Sirius glowered at his friend, twitching at the amusement he saw in his eyes. "This is not  _funny_ , James! How are we supposed to be there for Remus if we can't even  _begin_  to transfigure ourselves! This is so bloody confusing!"

"You know we have to ignite the magic within ourselves," James said patiently, as if he had already explained this to him many times, and took a seat on the newly mended chair with a sigh. "Remember all the things McGonagall taught us about Animagi? Just take it easy, calm down, and keep going. You  _knew_  this wouldn't come easily."

"Yes, and we're trying to do this within a month, whereas the entire Animagi community masters the art of human transfiguration in  _years_ ," Peter agreed, slightly out of breath. They had been at this for hours, and midnight was fastly approaching. They all had sweat rolling down their faces, and exhaustion was clearly written all over them, their haggard appearance and sluggish movements giving them away.

"I know," Sirius sighed in defeat, leaning against a pillar for support. His eyes turned brooding. "It just…it frustrates me. We have to do this for him. I don't want him out there alone again."

"And he won't be," James soothed. Jumping from his chair, he marched over to his friend and clapped him on his shoulder reassuringly. "It's only been three days, Sirius. We have weeks to go. We'll keep practicing here in the Room of Requirement, as long as it takes."

Sirius nodded, relaxing at the consoling words his best friends were providing. The moment he'd seen Remus's battered body by the Whomping Willow, and—Sirius recalled with malevolent anger, gritting his teeth—when that  _bastard_  had struck him, Sirius was filled with this fiercely overwhelming feeling of protectiveness, anger, and helplessness.

He did not like the feeling of watching someone like a brother to him getting beaten bloody. He never wanted to see Remus helpless at the hands of some sick, demented man again.

After a few more tries, the marauders agreed to call it a night. Too tired and sweaty to go under the invisibility cloak all at once, they decided to take their chances and just creep their way back to Gryffindor tower.

The moment the trio stepped out of the door, they bumped straight into a girl.

Hermione let out a small shriek and staggered backwards, but James quickly caught her arm and righted her. She was staring at them wildly, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"What—" she said breathlessly. "What—you—here—so late—what?"

"Smartest witch in the school and can't even make complete sentences," James said dryly.

Hermione took a deep breath. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "What are you three doing out of bed so late, in the middle of nowhere?"

"Fancy you should be asking us," Sirius said with an amused expression, "because I could ask you the same."

"I—" Hermione's mouth clamped shut.

Sirius smiled slowly. "I thought so."

"I was just out…to go to the kitchens. Is that so wrong?"

"The kitchens are on the other side of the castle, dear," James replied with a small smirk.

Hermione glared. "Well, now I know. That still doesn't answer why you three are here."

"Honestly, you sound like my mother," James said with a wrinkle to his nose. "You're neither a prefect nor a figure of authority, so we don't have to answer anything. Let's drop the antics, yeah? I'm missing a date with a certain four-poster bed."

Her eyes flickered to the three exhausted yet amused gentlemen, and saw the Room of Requirement's door fading into the wall behind Peter's shoulder. Hermione sighed in defeat, shoulders hunching. Folding her arms, she asked them tiredly, "How long have you known?"

"About what?"

"About the room."

James smiled and exchanged significant looks with the two other boys. "For quite some time."

"You know," Sirius said conversationally, "you're not the perfect Gryffindor you make yourself out to be."

"I never asked to be considered anything more or less than I am," Hermione snapped. "And what are you talking about?"

Sirius's grin was predatory. "We know about your little midnight strolls each night." Hermione froze, and Sirius's grin widened. "What exactly  _do_  you do inside that room with the black door, Hermione? Nothing naughty, I hope."

"How do you know about that?" Hermione said hoarsely. "Have you been following me?"

"How about," James smiled politely, "you get to keep your secrets and we get to keep ours. Deal?" He sidestepped her when she made no move to reply.

Hermione whirled around. "Alright, whatever. While we're here…I'd like to talk to you, Sirius."

"Sorry love, I'm knackered. Maybe some other time. Good night." Sirius walked past her and fell in step beside Peter tiredly, not bothering to look at her as he passed.

Hermione felt that familiar tug in her heart. She breathed in deeply to calm her nerves, but her nose wrinkled. "You three better not go to bed without a shower! You smell like dragon dung!"

She heard distant laughter as they disappeared in the darkness. She paused for a few minutes, making sure the trio was out of sight and no prefects were passing by. Carefully, Hermione went to face the wall again and paced three times. A black metal door appeared and she stepped inside.

Closing the door firmly behind her, Hermione stared in exasperation at the enormous room. She had decided, after her first few nights of failure, to categorically scan the entire room in sections. She was nearly finished with one half of the room but clearly without success.

After an hour of rigorous searching, she sank to her knees against a wall. Why was this so hard? From what Dumbledore had told her, Harry had found this horcrux within minutes! It was taking her  _weeks!_

Sighing, she stood from her spot and decided nothing was going to get done today. Jumping to her feet, she put her wand back inside her pocket and started for the door.

Her foot snagged on a carpet and she lurched forward, dragging the carpet with her as she tumbled to the ground hard. Groaning, she felt her hatred for the cursed room magnify tenfold as she fell hard on her elbows.

"Stupid—room—bloody—horcruxes—" Hermione ground out irritatedly, adjusting her skirt and blouse as she rose to her feet. "I  _would_  be the one stuck to find all seven and destroy them in the 70's." She looked up at the ceiling accusingly, imagining the future Dumbledore hovering somewhere in the heavens. "Why not Harry, hmm? You liked him enough, Dumbly." She snorted at the nickname she'd just given to the elder professor and shook her head. Lack of sleep and fatigue did strange things to her.

Her eyes traveled to the rug that had caused her fall. The opposite end was wound tightly around a small wooden desk that reached up to her knees, and she looked at it curiously. Kneeling down, she observed the ancient desk, standing on intricately carved legs and held a little drawer with a black knob.

Furrowing her brow, she examined a leg of the table in fascination. Sometimes wizards truly outdid themselves. The winding, moving strokes of wood, the small details engraved into it, nearly took her breath away.

It was when she realized that the winding pattern down the leg was actually a set of scales on a thick slope, that she realized the legs of the table were not legs. They were carved snakes.

"Good Merlin," she whispered, not daring to breathe. Whatever ancient piece of furniture she had in her hands, it was definitely Slytherin.

Hermione hastily reached for the drawer and pulled, but it did not budge. She had assumed as much. Taking out her wand, she said, " _Alohamora_."

And to the greatest shock of her life, it unlocked.

Feeling giddy, she slowly pulled out the drawer and all breath escaped her raggedly.

There, sitting on a blue velvety cushion, was a diadem.

A small, disbelieving laugh escaped her throat. Hermione's fingers closed around the diadem and examined it, just to make sure it was real, and her thoughts were confirmed.

All notions of sleep disappeared. At that moment nothing meant more to her than finally,  _finally_  finding a hidden piece of Voldemort's soul. She wondered briefly why he hadn't put rigorous enchantments and concealing spells on it that would have prevented her from ever finding it, no less letting her open the drawer with a simple  _alohamora_  spell, but Voldemort couldn't have believed that anyone besides his brilliant self would ever find this room, and this horcrux, as he most likely thought he was the only person who knew of this particular room.

She could have jumped up and down, but resisted the impulse and tucked the crown securely on the inside of her robes. Quickly putting a Disillusionment charm on herself as an extra precaution, she scurried back to Gryffindor tower.

Hermione clutched the diadem close to herself, making sure it stayed in the inside of her robes. Maneuvering quietly through the dark corridors, bypassing a young Mrs. Norris several times with much difficulty, Hermione finally reached Gryffindor tower in once piece.

"Bargus Barnleby," she whispered, and with a loud snore, the Fat Lady swung the portrait open. Walking inside, she saw the deserted common room and rid the concealing charm from her body, sighing in relief.

Creeping quietly, Hermione tiptoed through the common room and made for the girls' dormitory.

"Back so soon?" a voice said, and Hermione jumped. The body Sirius slinked out of the boys' dormitory entrance, a smirk on his face. She noticed his damp hair with amusement.

"And all this time I thought you ignored the advice I gave you," Hermione said wryly.

Sirius's smirk deepened. "How could I ever ignore anything that came out of that pretty little mouth of yours?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I thought you were going to sleep," she said as he stopped in front of her.

He shrugged. "I did sleep. But you know how restless I can get at night."

"Hm. Well, I'm tired," Hermione nodded to herself, and turned to leave. "Goodnight."

Sirius's hand shot out to her arm, stilling her movement. The diadem slipped under her robes but Hermione clamped her elbow down quickly, stopping it in its descent. Silently thanking both Merlin and Morgana, Hermione's eyes dipped down to the hand the held her, and then raised her eyes to meet his. "You really need to stop doing that."

"Stop what?" Sirius asked.

With deliberate emphasis, she removed each finger from her bicep. "Grabbing people without their consent. Especially people you hardly know."

"I know you a little," Sirius eyes flickered deliberately to her lips.

Hermione scowled. "Alright, what exactly is this?" At Sirius's blank look, she gestured between them. "This—this  _thing_  you're doing. Kissing me yesterday, saying you're testing out a theory, and then never explaining further. And now you're trying to do that again, I'm just—" Hermione stopped, sighing. "I'm not understanding what you're doing. And why."

Sirius's eyes had gone wide as she spoke, and once she finished he shifted away slightly and gave a small, short laugh under his breath. "Well, clearly I'm rubbish at seduction..."

"Is that what this is?" Hermione said skeptically. "I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that hard to believe?" asked Sirius in surprise.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well for one, you hardly like me. Sometimes we get on, sometimes we don't. Forgive me if I'm having trouble understanding why all the sudden you're up for snogging."

"Well first, everyone is always up for snogging," Sirius asserted firmly. "And...I don't know. I  _was_ testing something. I was curious, okay? I wanted to know what would happen."

"And did you discover anything of importance?"

Sirius flinched a little at the sarcasm in her voice. "A bit no, a bit yeah. I just...don't understand you, Hermione Granger."

"And you thought kissing would help you understand," said Hermione blankly. At his chagrin, Hermione sighed. "Did you kiss James, then, when you didn't understand  _him?_ "

At this, Sirius smiled. "Well..."

She grinned, and her annoyance began to ebb slowly. "You're a good person, Sirius. Rash, irresponsible, infuriating…yet still good. But this all really needs to stop. If you're  _curious_  about something, you could just ask me next time."

"Yes, yes, alright. And rash?" He raised an eyebrow challengingly. "I'm hardly that impulsive."

Hermione snorted. "Like when you were going to storm off to the Whomping Willow after Remus was attacked?"

His expression hardened and she knew that wasn't something he wanted to think about right now. Moving his finger from her jaw, he replied a little stiffly, "I would do anything to protect the ones I love."

She understood. Of course he would. Hermione could say the same.

"I know."

He glanced at her, eyeing her carefully, and then sighed. Running a hand through his dark locks, he said, "Well, I'm going to catch up on schoolwork. You're welcome to join me." He began walking over to an armchair.

As inviting as it looked, spending an evening with Sirius to do homework, the diadem concealed under her robes was calling for her immediate attention. "Maybe some other time. I  _am_ really tired." She gave him a wistful smile.

He nodded and sank down into the chair. "Night, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Sirius."

Without another word, she walked to the girls' dormitory.

She sat silently on her bed for a while, the curtains drawn around her bed. The crown was very regal, very beautiful with such ancient, intricate craftsmanship and radiating power she knew to be Rowena Ravenclaw's, as well as Tom Riddle's.

But the more she gazed at it, the more she held it between her fingers, the more she felt a burning ignite slowly inside her. The crown felt warmer to the touch, and her eyes crossed slightly as her mind drifted, uneven thoughts circling her head…thoughts that put her skin on edge…

Somebody in the dorm snored loudly and Hermione blinked, staring disbelievingly at the horcrux.

Fear gripped her as she dropped the horcrux onto the sheets.  _What in god's name just happened?_

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable with having the horcrux out in the open, much less  _near_  her, she kneeled by her bed and hid the diadem inside her trunk, setting multiple concealing charms and various enchantments to prevent anyone from ever stealing it, no less actually  _see_  the diadem. Satisfied by her work, she dressed quickly into her night clothes and disappeared under the covers.

She could still sense it there, under her bed, tucked away like a filthy secret. It made her anxious, and that worried her even more.

It was only the first horcrux and already she was feeling on edge. Was there something about them that she did not know about? Suddenly she felt very resentful for Dumbledore sending her on this mission so quickly without even properly guiding her, telling her exactly what on earth she was doing. She resented him for using the damned Time-Turner and dying anyway because he had used it improperly.

She knew a part of Voldemort's soul had split and embedded itself into the diadem…but what happened when others were too close to it? When she had been holding it…a darkness began clouding her mind. What would have happen if she hadn't let it go?

Resolving that she would go to the library and research it (though she doubted she'd find anything), she turned to her side and sighed softly, putting all the negativity in her mind off to the side where it would be henceforth ignored.

Trying to relieve the tension still clenching her stiff muscles, Hermione's thoughts wandered back to Sirius. He was infuriatingly complicated to understand, his actions as chameleonic as his thoughts. Thinking about him was only furthering the pounding in her head.

Turning over in her bed with a small frown on her face, Hermione wondered what twisted future she was creating, and why the spot of her bed where her trunk lay underneath felt bone-chillingly cold.

**xxx**

"These are damn good, Remus! You have to admit Hermione has style," James exclaimed, and Remus couldn't help but nod in numb agreement.

James was currently sitting at the foot of his bed, and Sirius and Peter were sitting in chairs on either end of the bed. After much begging and shameless groveling, Remus allowed each of them one piece of chocolate from the bag Hermione had gifted him. All three had their eyes rolling back in pure chocolate pleasure.

"So," Sirius started conversationally, chocolate still in his mouth, "when do you get out of this bloody place?"

"Tonight, actually," Remus said. "I should be joining you guys in the Great Hall for dinner, if all goes well."

"Excellent," Peter smiled. "You've been gone far too long and I don't think I can stand through another evening of James making an arse out of himself trying to get Lily to pay attention to him."

"I do  _not_  make myself look like an arse," James protested. "Lily just needs extra persuading to see the light, i.e.  _me_. Is that so wrong?"

"Yes," the three answered unanimously, and James scowled.

"Well," James said icily, "we'll see how you three feel when in ten years I'll be married to the finest witch on the planet and you three will be single and balding."

"Single…" Remus sighed in forlorn agreement.

"Balding?" Peter said numbly.

"Whoa," Sirius backtracked, " _Marriage_ , Prongs?"

James merely shrugged, his eyes locked with Sirius's grey ones. "That serious, mate?" he asked softly. James shrugged and looked away, abashed.

"Damn," Remus breathed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Don't get too excited, it's just a thought," James said irritably.

"You three look awfully tired these past few days," Remus noted as he swallowed a morsel of chocolate. "Have you been gallivanting around at night without me?" he asked mischievously.

"Yes," Sirius answered immediately, and James and Peter nodded. Remus's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Really?" he asked nonchalantly. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh you know," James said offhandedly. "Implanting dungbombs in the dungeons, enchanting the armor to sing love songs to the professors…the works."

"Mm," Remus noted. The display should have been convincing,  _would_ have been convincing, if Remus hadn't just transformed into his werewolf counterpart. Residual effects were still present in his body, even if his exterior wasn't furry and clawed. The moment he'd asked about the trio's tired appearances, their heartbeats had escalated astronomically. And when Sirius and James had provided explanations, their heartbeats rose even more irregularly.

He smiled then, and changed the topic to the classes he'd missed the past few days, and they relaxed a bit as they returned to normal and discussed animatedly the past few days.

Remus was not certain why his best friends were so obviously keeping something from him, but it stung him deeply that they were.

**xxx**

"It's good to see him back," Lily noted over dinner. Her jade eyes softened as she looked at Remus, who was currently piling potatoes onto his plate.

Hermione nodded in agreement, taking a thoughtful bite from her food. His appearance had definitely improved since she last saw him, and seeing him out of the Hospital Wing and out and about was extremely reassuring.

What Hermione figure out was why another werewolf had attacked Remus. How had he even known where the Shrieking Shack was? Hermione thought hard, sifting through every memory she had with the future Remus Lupin. Nothing had ever come up indicating that he'd been attacked like this while at Hogwarts. Then again, her former professor was a very private man who internalized everything, perhaps as a defense mechanism for the monster he knew he was inside.

She shook her head. No, not monster.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" James's voice suddenly hit her ears like a ton of bricks, and both Hermione and Lily cringed at the booming volume. He leaned over the table towards them with a dazzling smile.

"Leave her alone, Potter," Lily replied with a slight wince, and concentrated heavily on her plate. Hermione's gaze shifted from James to Lily slowly, and he looked slightly put-out by her fierce ignorance of his existence, but continued cheerily to engage in conversation with her. Finally after six failed attempts, his attention wandered back to Hermione.

"Have you owled Mum yet, Hermione?" James asked a little tiredly.

At this Lily's head snapped up. "Why would she owl  _your_  mother?" Lily asked, narrowing her eyes.

James looked genuinely confused. Slowly he replied, "Because Hermione lives with us now." Lily's eyes widened and James frowned. "Didn't you know?"

Lily looked at Hermione in disbelief.

"Ah…yes, I must've forgotten to mention it…" Hermione said faintly, feeling heat rise in her cheeks as the two stared at her. "I, erm, that is—the Potters are me legal guardians now…after what happened this summer."

"I see," Lily said, and then glanced down at her food. "I didn't know."

"Hermione's a bit on the shy side," James smiled gently, looking at Hermione with a knowing look. "I don't think she's told anybody; must be too ashamed of being my, ah…stepsister of sorts?"

"I'm not ashamed of you, James," Hermione said quickly.

"Why not?" Lily replied, nonchalantly sipping her soup. "I can write you a list of reasons if you'd like."

A devious smile lit across James's face like rapid fire. "You've written lists about me, Lily?"

Lily glanced up sharply and her mouth opened and closed, much to James's amusement, as she angrily refuted his words, though the little red tinge across her cheeks was unmistakable.

"I don't have time for this," Lily finally muttered, and stood up, giving Hermione one last look with a forced smile. "Good night, Hermione." She looked over to James who grinned and promptly spun on her heel, exiting the Great Hall without another look back.

"Why does she hate you so much?" Hermione couldn't help but ask as she watched Lily's retreating form. She knew eventually things would simmer between the pair seeing as their son was—used to be—her best friend, but the deeply-rooted dislike Lily held exclusively for James Potter simply made no sense. Yes, he was quite infuriating but so were the rest of the Marauders. So why the singled-out treatment?

James shrugged and gave an easy wink. "She's just afraid to admit her undying love for me, that's all."

He was smiling genuinely and she knew that her coldness towards him did not bother him too much; he probably liked the thrill of chasing Lily for years on end. She wouldn't intervene in his fun.

Hermione's eyes traveled back to the Slytherin table, her eyes seeking a particularly hunched figure. Severus was quietly eating his dinner, though his eyes did flicker up towards the exit a few times from where Lily had left. He made no motion to leave as he continued picking at his food.

_This too,_  she thought miserably. Feeling stifled, she let her spoon settle back on her plate and jumped from her seat, bidding her fellow Gryffindors goodnight. As she walked down the Great Hall and to the exit, she help but feel watched, and saw that Severus's eyes were tracing her every move as she left as well.

But she did not stay a minute longer, as selfish as it was of her. Because living in this generation would mean, inevitably, she would see this course of history as well.

A few months ago the prospect of caring about  _Snape's_   _feelings_  would have made her laugh. Now it was quite serious and very, very genuine.

The sun had not yet set so Hermione left through the Entrance Hall and wandered the grounds, feeling the chill air encompass her small frame with a shiver. Tugging her cloak tightly around her neck, she strolled the grounds listlessly.

Hermione knew from the beginning that Severus's feelings for Lily Evans would be futile, and had accepted it the moment she woke up in the Godric's Hollow. But, over the course of a few weeks, she realized that many things she assumed about Severus Snape were very misleading when it came to him as a young boy. Dumbledore had been a little vague on the details before her time travel, only mentioning that his love for Harry's mother had protected Harry since his arrival at Hogwarts, and that he died with that promise.

What she hadn't prepared herself for was befriending the quiet, exceptionally talented wizard. She hadn't accounted for her feelings to get in the way, that she would not only befriend him but enjoy his company, feel thrilled that she made the young boy's face light up with amusement every once in a while. She enjoyed talking with him, finally having an equal in passion for studies and often found herself watching in admiration whenever Severus would speak passionately of potion brewing. Somehow she had become his friend, one of only two from what she'd gathered. And it was in this year and the next coming years that he would go in the downward spiral of deatheaterhood.

While that was something she'd already planned on preventing, her position in this year suddenly made her very nervous. What if these future Death Eaters want to be persuaded, befriended? Hermione only knew fifteen-year-old Severus for a month, hardly a grand feat to change his ways of thinking. Even his  _thinking_  she couldn't be sure of. Did he dislike muggleborns? He was a half-blood himself, and had scolded her for calling herself a mudblood. Surely that meant he wasn't inclined to the Death Eater mindset?

That hadn't stopped him from calling Lily a mudblood in his time, though.

She chewed her bottom lip anxiously as she recalled the mildly startled look on Severus's face when she'd left the Great Hall.

What she truly did not want to witness, out of the million horrible things that could happen over the next six years, was the night Severus Snape would realize his love would never, ever be returned.

With doubts and worries spinning through her head, she let out a small sigh as she walked alongside the Black Lake slowly. It was getting chillier by the minute, and the sudden gusts of wind did not improve her shivering condition. She began to turn around and head back inside when a disturbance in the Black Lake caught her eye.

The water was rippling abnormally in a particular spot. At first she thought it was the Giant Squid acting up, but the movements were miniscule, even calm. Hermione crept closer to the edge of the lake and peered through the dark water.

Her eyes widened comically. "Oh my god!" she shrieked. There was a student under the water!

She began to walk into the water but the icy pinpricks of the freezing liquid already numbed her feet and she clutched her head in dismay. How would she help him out if she would drown in the freezing water herself? Panic filled her instantly as her mind went completely blank. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear—

Suddenly Ron's voice filled her mind as she remembered when he'd shouted at her in their first year, ' _Hermione are you a witch or not!_ '

"Yes, yes," she said breathlessly, gripping her wand and pointing it at the dark water. "Er, er— _Accio Hogwarts-student!_ "

It was the most foolish thing that had ever come out of her normally intelligent mouth, but the sudden emergency had left her mind completely useless.

However, evidently the magic forces had found her request permissible, and the water below her began bubbling. Suddenly with an almighty force, a figure broke from the water and was flying towards her. The body crashed into her as they both flew backwards in the air and landed unceremoniously on the grass, a few feet away from the edge of the lake. Hermione felt her teeth chatter as the cold body above her nearly robbed her breath. With a herculean effort, she pushed the still form away from her and she rolled to the side, gasping for air.

Immediately she crouched beside the student and saw it was a boy, probably a year or two younger than her. Long locks obscured his face and his frame was stiff, as if frozen.

She also noticed he was not breathing.

"Oh good Merlin," she breathed and looked heavenwards, wondering what evil gods had put her in such a position.

She began doing chest compressions, and Merlin knew if she was even doing it right because she only saw this done in muggle movies. Vaguely her mind registered that there was probably a spell for resuscitation, but her brain was too frozen and too frazzled to think of anything else.

When he made no movement and no water spurted from his mouth, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, and tilted his head back.

Her mouth pressed against his frozen lips as she blew air into his trachea. He remained motionless, and Hermione groaned and legitimately began panicking. She tried the compressions, but when that failed again, she angrily threw her wand in the air and let red sparks shower around the pair, hoping somebody inside the castle would notice it and come for their aid.

As she moved to push at his chest again, something caught her eye. Beneath his robe something was glowing, emitting a faint red light through the thick fabric on his chest. Her breath caught for a second when she thought she heard a whirring sound, but her mind was robbed of all thought as the light suddenly blinded her. She fumbled backwards and she heard a ragged gasp of air rip through the boy's lungs, his back arching off the grass. The intense red light receded from him and she blinked rapidly, fighting to regain her sight.

After a few agonizing seconds the spots from her eyes disappeared. She glanced over at the boy who was breathing raggedly, and sighed in relief.

"Are you alright?" she asked as she moved closer to him. He was shivering uncontrollably in his icy wet clothes, but stiffened at the sound of her voice and he struggled to sit up. "You shouldn't try to move yet—"

"Shut up."

Hermione's mouth snapped closed, eyebrow arching at the commanding coldness of his voice. How could he have so much composure and such a leveled voice after nearly drowning?

"I don't think so," Hermione said in mild shock, eyebrows knitting together. "You should be  _thanking_  me for saving your life—"

" _Thanking you?_ " the boy let out a short, incredulous laugh. "After nearly killing me and ruining everything? Are you joking or are you naturally this stupid?"

Anger flared inside her. " _Excuse me?_ "

"You're deaf as well?"

Hermione clenched her jaw and scowled at the boy mocking her, mere minutes after regaining consciousness. His face was still obscured with the lops of hair covering it, but she could still see the smirk curling on his lips.

"Listen here  _little boy_ ," Hermione said scathingly, watching him struggle to sit up again, "I don't know who you think you are but taking a swim in the Black Lake at this time of year was not only reckless but incredibly stupid. You're lucky I was here to get you out before you became a permanent iceberg for the Giant Squid to play with!"

"And so you decided to become the good Samaritan and rescued me, did you?" he hissed. "Did it occur to you, beneath that bird's nest atop your head, that perhaps I did not  _want_ to be saved?"

"All the more reason to stop you," Hermione said hotly. Absolutely unbelievable. Never in a century did she think someone would reprimand her for rescuing them!

He finally managed a sitting position and moved the hair from his eyes and face, pushing it to the side so she got a clear view of icy silver eyes piercing hers mockingly.

Her body felt like something electrocuted her as her mouth fell open.

The fact that he looked like a miniature Sirius bloody Black wasn't the end of it. He  _embodied_  him to a new level; the aristocratic features even sharper, the smug lips curling wider, the grey eyes ten times more ferocious than she ever thought possible. If Sirius were ever to be a dangerous, arrogant Slytherin, this was what he would look like.

At her dumbstruck expression his smirk deepened and he stood, a little unsteadily, but the mocking expression was still etched on his face. "Why don't you go back inside like a good little Gryffindor and forget you ever saw me," his smirk widened as his eyes wandered over her. "I don't think you can handle me."

With that he turned around and marched right back towards the Black lake, and after taking a giant breath to steady himself, he started to run.

Hermione's eyes rounded and she jumped to her feet and reached him before he plunged inside the freezing water again. Grabbing him roughly by the upper arms, it took a monstrous force to stop him from jumping headfirst into the lake.

" _Get off!_ " he growled irritatedly.

"I was wrong—you're not stupid, you're  _suicidal!_ " Hermione screeched as she pulled him forcefully away from the lake. Thankfully this  _wasn't_  Sirius—if it had been, never in a million years would she be able to overpower him like she was with Regulus. Regulus was a bit shorter and easier to maneuver around, to some extent. He was still incredibly strong and she knew her hold on him would only last a few more seconds.

"You don't know what you're doing—let me  _go_!"

"No!" Hermione shot back, struggling to keep her grip on him as he bucked wildly. "Not until you stop trying to kill yourself!"

"Are you crazy?" he yelled in exasperation.

Finally he freed himself from her grip and wriggled violently from her, causing her to stagger backwards unsteadily. He reflexively went to catch her but was dragged along in her fall, and he landed on his knees roughly and Hermione groaned, her back hitting the frozen earth.

"You," his nostrils flared and his silver eyes flashed as he kneeled next to her fallen form, "will regret getting in my way."

Hermione never saw anyone look as angry as him. Or perhaps she did, but the image in front of her made her feel like she did not know the true meaning of deep, unrestrained loathing until now. The last time she saw this kind of malice radiated towards her was any encounter involving Draco Malfoy.

Her eyes were distracted again to the sudden light coming from his chest, the necklace behind his robes emitting a red glow. He followed her gaze and his expression changed, a mask of shock written clearly on his prominent features.

His eyes caught hers threateningly. "Don't—"

"What the devil is going on here?"

Professor Flitwick was hobbling towards them at breakneck speed, clearly concerned at the fallen position of Hermione. She motion to sit up when suddenly Regulus's hand clamped on her shoulder, pushing her to the ground so she couldn't move.

"She just fell, sir," Regulus said suddenly, concern layering his voice thickly. Hermione gaped up at him. "And she wasn't breathing; I was so worried…"

"Clever of you to send up the sparks; couldn't miss it even if I wanted to!" Flitwick squeaked and peered over Hermione curiously as she glowered at Regulus.

The snarky bastard was making her out to be the damsel in distress!

"Miss Granger?" Flitwick finally remember her name and looked over at her in concern.

"Yes professor," Hermione replied, and moved Regulus's arm swiftly from her shoulder and stood up. "As you can see, I am quite alright."

"Don't believe a word she says," Regulus interjected, a worried expression on his face as he stood up as well. "Wasn't even breathing a few seconds ago—had to perform an  _Efflo_  spell on her to get her to start again—and that was when I sent up the sparks right when she started."

Ah, right. The  _Efflo_  spell for resuscitation.…Hermione reflexively scrubbed her mouth with the back of her hand, as if trying to erase the memory of pressing them against cold lips.

Flitwick looked at him appraisingly and bobbed his head in acknowledgement, enabling Hermione to grow more and more incredulous by the second. She gazed at the young deviant beside her and sent malevolent thoughts in his direction, suddenly wondering why she had even bothered saving him.

The purposeful nature inside Hermione scolded her for being so caustic. But she was only human, after all, and imagining carefully executed deaths upon the boy next to her was not completely insane at the moment.

Flitwick sighed exasperatedly and said, "Well, don't just stand there like a log, take the girl to the infirmary!" Regulus started and helped Hermione to her feet. Flitwick narrowed his eyes at Regulus and added, "And  _do_  give a better story to Madam Pomfrey as to how Miss Granger fell, given the  _state_  of things." His little eyes roved over the pair's dripping wet clothes and shivering bodies with a quirk of his brow. Hermione's face felt like it was on fire and Regulus stared nonchalantly at the charms professor, completely unfazed.

Gritting her teeth, she followed Flitwick back inside the castle and stared at the hand on her elbow, burning holes in it with every step they took as Regulus took her to the Hospital Wing.

"You're going to pay for this," Hermione hissed under her breath.

Regulus glanced at her in amusement. "Is that a challenge?"

Hermione raised a brow. "I don't think you're old enough for a wizard's duel just yet, sorry."

Regulus frowned and retorted, "Why do you keep taking a jab at my age? I'm just a year below you."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. Was he really? If she was honest with herself, she really did not know a lot of Sirius Black's family history, only that he had a brother who was very interested in the ways of the Death Eaters, but turned his back on them very quickly. And from what little Dumbledore mentioned about him, he had even managed to steal one of Voldemort's horcruxes.

"I knew that," she replied stiffly, mildly disappointed at the very weak response. He smirked as if he was thinking the same, and his grip on her elbow loosened. "How do you know what year I am?" she asked suspiciously.

Real mirth showed in his eyes as he stared at with a glint in his eye that brought made her want to cringe away. "Everyone knows who Miss _Hermione Granger_  is," he said innocently, though the mask broke as his lip started curl in a derisive smile.

Hermione looked away, troubled in the predicament she was in. What good was her post here at Hogwarts if people were running around knowing who she was without meeting her? The same thing had happened with Lily when they'd first met. She had been discussing Hermione on the train to Hogwarts with Severus, as if she had heard about her and that there would be a transfer student coming to Hogwarts this year.

Did everybody know about her? Did everybody know about what had 'happened' to her family?

If that was true, why was Lily so surprised when she'd found out that Hermione was now living with the Potters? Shouldn't she have already known that?

Wrapped in her own gloomy thoughts, she stumbled a bit when Regulus suddenly stopped. She blinked and noticed they hadn't reached the infirmary yet.

"What's wrong?"

A grin spread on Regulus's face and he turned around. "Hello, brother!" he said cheerily.

Hermione whipped around and saw Sirius standing a few feet away. He had probably just finished dinner and was about to head back to their dorms.

Sirius was silent as his eyes fell on Hermione, lowering slowly down her body and noticing that she was drenched. And that Regulus was as well.

"What did you do?" Sirius asked, his voice calm and detached.

"He didn't do anything, Sirius," Hermione answered when Regulus only smiled tightly. "He was just being an idiot."

" _That's_  not news," Sirius replied, taking a step towards them. His eyes fell to where Regulus held Hermione's elbow, and she quickly wriggled from his grasp and put some space between the two brothers. Clearly there was some heavy air between them and she would rather spend the evening sinking into a much needed bath than to watch the two duel.

"Let's move along, now," Hermione said sternly, looking up at Sirius's impassive face. "You can stop glaring like that because he didn't do anything to me. If anything I saved this moron's life—"

"You did  _not_ —" Regulus started but Hermione continued, "And I would appreciate it if everyone got out of each other's business and headed back to their dormitories."

The commanding tone was not a new one for Hermione, and she was not in the mood to see curses and jinxes being thrown over her head. She grasped his shoulder when his stiff posture softened a bit at Hermione's insistence, pulling him gently away as Sirius continued to stare down into Regulus's mocking gaze.

"Goodnight, brother! Mummy says hi!"

Hermione nearly gaped at the antagonizing words but was even more surprised at Sirius's response, as he smiled and said, "Oh but Reggie, where's your leash?"

Regulus's eyes went cold and Sirius's smile lingered as he turned around began to walk away. Hermione was about to follow when she glanced back at Regulus, who seemed to be fighting the urge to hurl a jinx at the back of Sirius's head. Making her decision, she glanced at Sirius once last time before spinning around and fixing Regulus with her gaze.

"And you," she said none too kindly. " _I_  obviously do not need to go to the Hospital Wing, but that shouldn't stop you from going. You really should go and get your head checked after what you did today at the lake." The dangerous aura emanating from Regulus started to fade as he realized Sirius had disappeared behind a corridor and Hermione was still in front of him, glaring with all she was worth. Suddenly his expression turned sour and he replied, "Why are you still here?"

"Because you clearly have something unusual going on in your head and it should be checked with medical—and dare I say magical—attention."

Regulus listened to her with a bored expression and sighed, dusting his nails against his robes. "Listen, Granger. I don't really care what you think. I can live a full and happy life without your opinion. Now today, you ruined a very important test for me, and—"

"Is that what you were doing?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow. "Testing something? Was it the necklace that was glowing—?" Her eyes wandered involuntarily to his chest to peek at where the necklace was concealed, but he roughly turned her around and began pushing her towards the edge of the corridor that led to the grand staircase.

"Let's set some conditions. I'll stay out of your hair, you'll stay out of my hair, we'll both forget everything that happened today and we can live happy, fulfilling lives ignoring each other's existence indefinitely. Yeah?"

Hermione protested as he led her to the first step of the grand staircase and she pushed him off with a glare. "Fine. I know what you're getting at." She looked at him seriously. "I'll keep your little secret." Regulus smiled winningly, but she continued, "That doesn't mean that this is over."

"Sorry, I'm already taken," was his response and he winked before turning around and walking away, presumably to the dungeons.

Oh yes, he was definitely related to Sirius.

"And from what I saw, it seems you've already got my big brother wrapped around your tiny little stubby fingers. Trying to collect a family set?" he called lightly.

Hermione mouth opened a little in shock and she stared at her hands.  _That little worm..._

"What was that, Regulus?" she shot back loudly, her voice echoing against the walls. "You tried drowning yourself in the lake while trying to test a top secret necklace—"

Regulus stopped and turned to glare at her, and she smiled sweetly. He walked slowly back towards her. Hermione began to grow nervous at his predatory walk, and her right hand automatically moved to the pocket that held her wand.

Regulus moved close enough to move towards her ear and dropped his voice, "The great thing about this necklace is that I  _didn't_  drown, nor did I ever have any intention to. And what's even greater is that, while you pulled me out thinking that I was off to white light and harpsichords, my mind knew  _exactly_  what was going on around me from the moment I stepped in the water to when Flitwick came and found us."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. What? His mind was conscious even though he was not breathing or moving? Did he mean…

Her eyes widened and Regulus straightened, flashing a grin. "I must say, I've had better kisses."

Hermione's insides went cold. "That wasn't a kiss," she said angrily. "And you  _know_  why I did that—"

"Funny you wouldn't use magic," he said innocently.

"I couldn't—everything was happening fast, I couldn't remember the name of the spell—" she stammered.

"Strange how you could forget the name of a spell you learn in your first year," he observed nonchalantly, though his face was taunting. Hermione scowled at him before her expression closed.

"I don't care," she replied coolly. "I have nothing to hide, so you can stop trying to use this against me. Doing so would only prove how childish you actually are, despite how much older you try to seem."

He shrugged. "I don't need to use anything against anyone, Miss Granger. I'm simply stating the facts."

He began to turn when she said icily, "Let me say this, then, Mr. Black. Dark magic is forbidden within these walls. And I know dark magic when I see it…especially when it's hanging from your neck." Regulus stared at her coldly and she shrugged. "Just stating a  _fact_."

For a moment she thought he would turn his piercing glare into something more, but was instead a little taken aback when he smiled, the same cheery smile he'd given Sirius a few moments earlier. "You've made the wrong enemy, Granger. I'll see you around."

With that he departed, disappearing to the down a corridor, and the only thought running through her mind was,  _shite_.

Hermione groaned and wanted to smack her head against the stone wall. What was she thinking!  _Why_ did she fuel the fire to their spat? Why did she forget her place in this time period and pursue a pointless argument?

Why in the world did she get on the bad side of someone she knew was partial to the Death Eater ways?

Hermione walked up the grand staircase contemplatively and her feet took her to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Mumbling the password, the portrait swung open and she climbed inside. Seeing the plush armchairs, coupled with feeling the warmth of the fireplace, her fatigue caught up with her and made its presence known, feeling suddenly drained of all energy. Shuffling to the door to the girls' dormitory, she swung open the door. She was looking forward to a nice, long bath, long enough to get the smell Slytherin robes and lake water off her body.

Some students were still at the dinner and had not come up to Gryffindor tower yet, so the quiet and empty dormitory was very welcome. She wondered where Lily was, seeing as she left the Great Hall earlier than everyone else.

Hermione entered one of the bathrooms and turned the faucet of the bathtub on while undressing. Once it was filled enough sank down gratefully into the warm water and ducked her head underneath for a moment, trying to completely immerse herself in the solitude and the comfort of her bath.

Coming up for air, she began to wash herself idly. She spent the remainder of her time staring listlessly at the tiled wall, wondering when the girls would come up and start making their usual gossipy racket, when Sirius would confront her with his little army of best friends and demand to know why she was found soaked to the bone with his traitorous younger brother, when she would figure out how to destroy a horcrux and how she would gather the rest, when she will have the time to just be a normal Hogwarts student not trying to defeat Voldemort…

When she started to grow drowsy she stepped out of the tub and dried herself, donning on a bath robe and retreated back to her bed tiredly. She noticed many girls had come back from the dinner and were chatting amiably with their friends, already dressed in their night clothes.

Three beds down, Lily was sitting cross-legged with a book in her lap. Upon Hermione's arrival she glanced up and smiled, and Hermione walked over to her bed and sat across from her.

"I was wondering where you were," Hermione smiled.

"Yeah, after I left the Great Hall I just went straight to library," Lily admitted, tossing her fiery hair aside from her shoulder with a shrug. "An evening with James always sets my teeth on edge; only the solace of parchment relieves the tension."

Hermione nodded in understanding and sighed. "He adores you, you know."

"Oh I know," Lily said dryly, closing the book and setting it aside. "That doesn't mean I like acknowledging it as much as he does."

They snickered and Lily collapsed against her pillows, stretching. "So how long have you been staying with James?"

Hermione blinked. "Only two days, actually. I arrived at the end of August." Lily nodded, and Hermione watched her curiously. "I assumed everyone knew. I would've told you if I thought it was, you know…important." Hermione smiled genuinely, "I mean, you  _are_  the first friend I made here at Hogwarts."

"Yes, I suppose I am," Lily agreed softly.

Silence ensued between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, they were both just lost in their own worlds.

"Nobody knows, by the way," Lily suddenly said, and Hermione blinked slowly.

"What?"

"About you living with James. You said you assumed everybody knew where you were living now, but in truth it's been a mystery. I never would have guessed you were living with the Potters."

Hermione frowned. "But then how did everyone know about me when I came here? You said yourself people have been talking about me on the train and everything."

Lily looked at her in disbelief. "Hermione…you parents were killed by Voldemort's followers and you managed to come out of that house  _alive_. You were front page news. Everyone knew who you were." When Hermione remained oddly silent, she added, "Nobody knows where you live because exposing that would only lead the Death Eaters back to you. It was for your own protection, you know."

"Yes," she replied, though in reality she never thought of it that way. She never thought anybody would care about her life, even though she hadn't actually lived it.

Was it not ironic? How everyone knew who she was, even though she did not have a clue as to what had happened in this new history? How she had managed to "escape" Voldemort's wrath incurred on her family, how her parents had been killed?

All she could see in her head was Harry's face.

Lily looked at her warily, watching the shift in expression on the young girl's face. "Hermione?"

Hermione looked up into Lily's eyes and wished she hadn't. She always heard adults telling Harry that he had his mother's eyes…and they were not lying.

"I'm sorry, Lily," Hermione said more to herself, but Lily frowned and sat up on the bed, moving to sit beside her.

"Don't be sorry," Lily said quickly, looking stricken. "I didn't mean for you to get upset—me and my ingloriously foolish mouth…I wasn't trying to bring up bad memories," Lily said helplessly at the forlorn expression on Hermione's face. "Please don't be upset."

Hermione breathed in deeply through her nose and closed her eyes, chasing the sad thoughts of her previous life away. When she reopened them, she smiled reassuringly. "I'm not. I just have my moments, you know?"

Lily nodded and looked at her hands. Suddenly she straightened and wore a brilliant smile. "Severus and I are going to Hogsmeade together."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in the air. "Really?"

Lily nodded serenely. "That's why he's been acting so strange lately. Or at least, that's what my vain mind has concluded."

Hermione had to blink a few times to register the words. "So," Hermione began, "you two are…?"

"Nothing like that," Lily said quickly, a blush forming on her cheeks. "…Not yet anyway. He's been trying to ask me for a month now, did you know? Poor bloke nearly gave a stroke doing it!"

"What happened?" Hermione asked curiously.

Lily gave a small, devious smile. "Well, it sort of began a few weeks ago when we were walking out of Defense and we were talking about Patronuses, and I said offhandedly that my Patronus would probably be panther."

It was probably the most random thing she had ever heard, and no matter how hard she tried to make the correlation from a panther to Lily and Severus, she saw a blank. "So?"

Lily shrugged a little. "Panthers are Severus's favorite animal. It's kind of his thing. That's why you never see him in any other color than black."

Realization dawned on her and Hermione understood the meaning behind Lily's comment to Severus. Patronuses were embodiments of a person and their personality, and also taking form of what brings them the most joy. And for Lily to say that her Patronus would be Severus's favorite animal…she no longer doubted that Severus had nearly given himself a stroke trying to ask Lily to Hogsmeade…

"I don't know why he made such a big deal about this Hogsmeade thing, though," Lily said with some irritation. "I mean, we go together every year, anyway. He didn't need to be all fancy."

Hermione gave a small smile. "Lily, he wanted to be all fancy. For you."

Lily opened her mouth to respond but never found the voice for it. Instead she looked at her lap, blood pooling in her face once more.

"I don't know…" she said softly.

"What is it?"

Lily looked up Hermione in confusion. "Is it weird? I love Severus with all my heart. And…I think I might even like him, but…"

Hermione felt a stab of pain in her heart as she waited patiently for Lily to continue. Lily sighed and shook her head, looking at her with a lost expression. "But I just don't know. I feel like…like—"

"You're only in your fifth year, Lily," Hermione said gently, patting her shoulder. "You have another two years to worry about silly things like boys."

Lily smiled slowly and giggled, then wound her arm around Hermione's shoulders. "You are very right, my dear. And who knows? Maybe I'll find some handsome, billionaire Quidditch player to marry!"

Hermione snorted and Lily grinned widely, and Hermione fought down the sudden urge to say,  _you have no idea_.

When Hermione got dressed for bed Lily wished her goodnight. Just as she was about to slink off to her own four-poster bed, Hermione paused.

"Hey Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Did…did Sirius ask for me?"

Lily frowned. "No…why, should he have been?"

"No," Hermione said quickly. Lily narrowed her eyes and Hermione waved it off. "It was silly to ask. Good night."

One by one the girls grew silent, and as the seconds passed into minutes, the entire dorm was filled with even breathing and light snores. Hermione breathed in deeply, and once she was sure everyone was asleep, her feet slipped out of the bed and landed softly on the floor.

She crouched by the trunk under her bed and carefully opened it. She sighed. The horcrux was still there.

In all honesty she thought her excessive paranoia about the horcrux was unnecessary; however, finding the horcrux itself had been a giant stepping stone in her first month in the new era, and the hyperactively cautious side of her could not help but make sure each night that the diadem was safely tucked inside her trunk.

Her fingers brushed against the metal and she hissed, moving her hand away. Why was it always so warm?

Shaking her head, she crawled back atop her bed and glanced out the window. From here she could see the Black Lake glittering against the night sky, and a wave of emotion flitted through her. She did not like that Sirius hadn't approached her after the Regulus fiasco. She knew she was being hypocritical, because if he had approached her she would have complained that he needed to cool down and back off, but the fact that he did not react at all made her nervous. She  _expected_  his anger,  _expected_  to hear a long story of how the two estranged brothers would forever hate each other.

But leaving this hanging, leaving unsaid words between them would not do either of them well. Sirius probably would not speak of this to James, Peter, or Remus either. Though he was very good friends with the trio, it did not mean he told them everything. Clearly his family was a touchy subject, and not something he spoke openly even with his best friends. Worst case scenario, he would brood about this for days.

Growing increasingly agitated by the second, Hermione made up her mind and slipped out of bed for the second time. She carefully closed the door behind her and tiptoed down the stairs, then crossed the walkway and opened the door to the boys' dormitory.

It was times like these that she was forever grateful that the charmed staircase only applied to the girls' staircase. She crept quietly and walked over to the fifth years' sleeping quarters, feeling nostalgic as she remembered doing this countless time with Harry and Ron. With a shaky breath, she entered inside.

It was stone silent. All of the curtains were drawn on the beds, and while it made her sneaking around easier, it made finding Sirius's bed increasingly harder. As she peaked through a few curtains, anxiety built up inside of her and Hermione began questioning herself, wondering why she could not simply wait until the morning to approach Sirius, rather than snooping around in a boys' dormitory in the dead of night.

After crossing James's bed three times in a row, she nearly stomped her foot in frustration. Where the devil was that infuriating boy? Crossing the room, she went to a bed that had the curtains partially closed. Peering slowly inside, she felt relief flood inside of her.  _Finally._

Hermione gently sat on the edge of the bed near his torso, stretching her hand to his shoulder. Her hand came in contact with bare skin, and she belatedly realized he was wearing a wife beater. Gathering her wits, she shook him gently.

"Sirius?"

His face was buried in his pillow as he slept on his stomach. Hermione shook him again.

"Sirius, wake up," she whispered.

Sirius stirred a little, but made no move to breach into the realm of the conscious world. Rolling her eyes, she scooted a little closer to him and lowered her head so that her lips hovered just above his ear.

"Sirius…" she breathed softly.

The effect was immediate. He jerked a little and shivered, and Hermione straightened. She shook him again just to ensure he wouldn't fall back into his dreams. " _Get up_."

"Wha…" Sirius mumbled incoherently and turned slowly onto his back. One bleary eye opened and locked onto Hermione's silhouette. Suddenly he jerked away and drew the covers to his neck.

" _Hermione?_ "

"Shh," she scolded, pressing one finger to her lips. His eyes were round like saucers as he blinked profusely, trying to focus his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered once he finally regained control over his eyes.

Hermione shrugged. "I thought we could talk."

Sirius whispered sardonically, "Why yes, let me just get you a pot of tea and biscuits while we're at it."

Hermione gave him a withering look and motioned for him to move over. He sat up and crossed his legs, and Hermione shifted so she sat completely on the mattress. Closing the partially opened curtain around them, she drew out her wand and let light glow faintly at the tip, just enough to illuminate the inside of the four-poster bed. Then she placed a silencing charm around them, ensuring that no one else would hear any words passed between them.

Sirius was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and she could not help but admire the new state she was observing him in. His hair was more tousled than usual, his sleeping attire a welcome change to the uniform he wore every day.

Hermione did not realize how long she had been staring at him until her eyes wandered up to his eyes, finding him watching her just as intently as she was him. Immediately she looked away in embarrassment and took a breath, but she could not find the right words to begin with.

"Dragon caught your tongue?" Sirius asked with mild amusement as he continued to gaze at her, albeit a little sleepily.

Hermione sighed. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here anymore, to be honest."

"Well obviously you were out to steal my honor," Sirius said offhandedly as he folded his hands behind his head.

"Right, that was  _exactly_  what I came here to do. Caught me."

Sirius smiled tightly and stretched his arms above his head. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed again. "Look, I know it's probably been nagging at your head, because it's been nagging at mine all night and I couldn't just go to sleep without clearing this up and what better time than now, right?" Hermione said it all in a rush and cringed inwardly. She snuck a peak at Sirius but his expression was blank, staring at her impassively.

"You don't have to explain yourself, Hermione," Sirius said calmly. "You're entitled to do whatever you want. I'm not your keeper."

Hermione stared at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sirius shrugged. "It means I don't really care about what happened tonight, so you're wasting your time. I'd prefer it if we could just leave it at that and just go back to sleep."

Hermione had to let the words sink in before she responded. "You…don't care."

"No."

A twitch of irritation flared inside of her. "You do know your brother tried drowning himself today, right?"

That got his attention. " _What?_ " he exclaimed. "Why? What happened?"

"You suddenly care, then?"

"I care if my idiot of a brother is trying to kill himself, yes!"

Hermione winced. "Well, that's not quite what happened. He claims to have had it all under control. He seemed to be testing a magical artifact of some sort—a necklace to be exact. I didn't understand its properties, but from what I observed it had some sort of enchantment that allowed the wearer to remain suspended underwater without needing to breathe. He was still unconscious, though..."

As Hermione spoke, the outraged look on Sirius's face melted into one that was rather calmer.

"Did the necklace emit light? Sort of white?"

"Y...yes, actually," said Hermione, looking at Sirius suspiciously. "How do you know that?"

Sirius did not reply, He pushed away from the headboard and began to punch his pillow, then turned to his side. "Thank you for telling me. I'll be sleeping now."

"You don't want to know what happened next?"

"Not particularly, no."

Hermione was incredulous. Once again he had switched form, his expression unreadable and closed, as if a curtain had fallen over him. "Aren't you concerned? Your brother—he's meddling with something he doesn't understand. As his brother, you—"

"You know nothing of my family affairs, Hermione, seeing as you've only known me for a month," he said coldly. "Don't try to explain to me what I should do."

Her mouth parted in shock. "No. No, of course not. How silly of me to assume I know anything about the great Sirius Black."

"Good to see you understand," Sirius replied tightly.

Hermione was felt her face growing hotter by the second, and the nonchalant posture of Sirius was not helping her anger one bit.

"One day, Sirius, you will find yourself alone," Hermione said quietly, "and not even the best of friends would stand by you then. You'll have a choice to make for yourself of how to live your life to spare yourself that isolation."

"And what, you'll be the one with the perfect life?" Sirius leered. "Are you going to take my best friends away from me, then? Don't think I haven't noticed how you act around them."

Hermione gaped at him openly. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Sirius gave her a mocking stare. "No need to act so surprised around me, love. I've seen the way you are. You've already won Remus over by accepting his lycanthropy, and Peter is smitten with the way you can hold an intelligent conversation with him in nearly every bloody class." Hermione was stunned in silence but Sirius continued relentlessly. "You're the link to Lily that James is not afraid to use, so that's accounted for. What's next? Are you going to rub the feet of a few Slytherins to get them on your side?"

Sirius's head was forced to the side as his left cheek was stinging. Hermione was staring at him with a heavy emotion flaring in her eyes.

"You," Hermione said, her voice shaking, "are a  _child._ " Her hands curled into fists, her knuckles turning white. "I'm sorry your ego is so fragile and insecure that the idea—the very  _prospect_ —that someone else could make meaningful relationships with people who also happen to be your friend automatically deduces me to have an ulterior motive. I'll remember that the next time I have a conversation with Remus and Peter in front of you."

Hermione rose from the bed and waved her wand so the light coming from the tip extinguished. "And for the record, I have my  _own_  best friends, and they were the greatest people that ever lived. I don't need your friends make myself feel better."

"You speak of them like they're dead."

Hermione's lip twisted in a cold smile. "That's because they are."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the dormitory, then quickly cimbed into her own bed. Pressing her face into her pillow, she felt a lump form in her throat but she quickly swallowed, trying her best to get rid of it. She refused to cry over something as ridiculous as this; she  _refused_. There were bigger things to focus on, like the diadem resting in her trunk, or figuring out how to reach the rest of the horcruxes, or how to get any would-be Death Eater on her side, or why she had to walk near the Black Lake tonight, or why Sirius was not at all what she had thought he would be.

**xxx**

"You  _could_  look a bit more excited," Lily said loftily as the two dressed quickly, the prospect of breakfast sending their stomachs spiraling in hunger.

"It's just Hogsmeade," Hermione answered.

"Just Hogsmeade!" Lily paused to look at her with disbelief. "Dear Merlin, Hermione, you act like you've been there before!"

"Obviously not," Hermione lied easily as she wrapped a scarf around her neck. The first day of October proved to be an even colder one, and it happened to land on the first Hogsmeade weekend. She was not looking forward to it simply because it would be the first Hogsmeade trip without Harry or Ron. Or Ginny, or Neville, or Luna…

Lily admonished her flaky attitude and tugged her towards the Great Hall. Grabbing a basket of bagels and cream cheese, she tossed one to Hermione and dragged her outside to the Entrance Hall.

"What are we doing?" Hermione asked with surprise.

"Oh, suddenly curious now, are we?" Lily smirked, taking a liberal bit out of her bagel. "If you want to get the best stuff before the crowds get in, you have to leave early." Hermione glanced where Professor McGonagall was standing a few feet away with permission forms tucked under her arm. "You do have permission form, right?"

"Uh…"

Lily widened her eyes and halted. "The Potters signed a Hogsmeade permission form, right?"

In all honesty, Hermione had no idea. They probably did, but she was not one hundred percent certain. "I'll go ask," Hermione said and walked over to McGonagall.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall acknowledged. "I presume you're wondering if you have a signed permission form or not?"

"Er, yes, actually," Hermione replied meekly.

"Well, don't look so worried; Mrs. Potter sent the owl the day you moved in to their home."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, professor."

Hermione sighed and turned back to where Lily was waiting for her.

"We're good to go," Hermione smiled.

Lily clicked her tongue. "Not just yet."

Linking her arm with Hermione's, she steered them toward a corridor and entered the dungeons. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Are we fetching Severus?"

"Of course," Lily grinned. "He's usually a late riser."

Walking deeper and deeper down the steering halls, Lily stopped in front of a wall and gazed at it with a sigh.

"SEV!"

Hermione flinched and grimaced at the massive volume of the girl's voice. "SEV-ER-US!" her voice rang brilliantly, and finally after a few moments the wall transfigured into a passageway and out came none-too-pleased Severus Snape.

"Do you have to do that  _every bloody time?_ " Severus snapped, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His tie was crooked and his robes were falling off his shoulders, clearly indicating the haste at which he had dressed.

"Of course, dear, how else would you wake up at this ungodly hour?" Lily grinned, handing him a bagel from the bread basket. Hermione felt suddenly awkward, as she usually did when she was in the presence of the two teenagers. She felt like she was invading in a part of their lives that she had no right to see. More than anything, she hated being in the presence of a pair that she knew one would have an unhappy ending.

"Oh hello, Hermione," Severus said, finally getting out of his grumpy demeanor long enough to notice her presence. "Will you be joining us?"

"No," she said quickly, and didn't miss the small fraction of relief on Severus's face. Hermione did not want to be the one to impinge on the one day Severus had been looking forward to for so long. "I'll be going off on my own. I'd like to explore it thoroughly at my own pace."

Lily protested at first, and Severus had kindly offered to show her around, but Hermione declined resolutely. In truth she would love to have a little time alone for herself. It was a much needed break from the task she had at hand, and getting lost inside the magical shops was the best way to do it.

Hermione visited Zonko's first, then to the Three Broomsticks where she had a soothing cup of butterbeer that warmed her frozen hands and insides.

By the time she left the Three Broomsticks Hogsmeade had filled up considerably, third years up to seventh years roaming around and chatting animatedly with their friends. Hermione felt a pang in her heart as she remembered doing the same with Harry and Ron so many times.

"Hey, Hermione!" a voice called from behind. She saw Peter striding towards her excitedly, closely followed by Remus. She smiled thinly. "Why're walking about by yourself? Come, join us!"

"Oh! I, I really couldn't—" Hermione began.

"Oh, you really could," Remus smirked, and gently pressed on her back to usher her with them.

"Zonko's is pretty good, but if this is your first time you  _have_  to try the butterbeer at Three Broomsticks," Peter explained. "Ah, Sirius is already there! Oi!"

Hermione's mood soured as Sirius came in sight, laughing with a fourth year she'd never seen before. At Peter's call Sirius's head snapped up, and he grinned in return, breaking away from the fourth year.

"Hello Remus, Peter," Sirius greeted them. His eyes flickered over hers before turning back to them. "Where's James?"

"In the Quidditch shop last I saw," Remus replied. There was an uncomfortable silence hovering around them. "Er..."

"Right, I'm off. Davey Heldrich over there was telling me a few birds, and even a select few lads ,are waiting for a round of drinks with me at the Hog's Head."

Hermione snorted quietly.

"Something wrong, Granger?" Sirius asked.

Hermione shook her head and ducked her smile, her eyes trained on her boots. "Not at all."

"Right. You two keep safe, alright," Sirius as he turned to leave, "don't want want to find yourself in a pattern of dead friends; not in this climate."

"What?" said Remus, frowning, but it did not matter—Hermione had whipped out her wand, her hand shaking, and looked murderous. "Hermione—no!"

She launched herself at Sirius, foregoing the wand and landing a hit square between Sirius's eyes. He staggered back and fell to the ground. " _How dare you! How dare you!_ "

Hermione went for another swing but was stopped; she struggled when she felt arms grabbing at her torso. Remus was holding onto her fiercely and Peter dragged Sirius away from her.

"You deserve everything you get!" Hermione screamed. "You deserve  _everything!_  You're going to live a miserable life, Sirius Black! Nobody will ever love you!"

"What's going on here?" James's voice entered. He had a handful of bags in his hands, looking at the scene before him in confusion.

"Let go of me," Hermione said icily. Remus looked at her with a hard expression, and steered her gently away from the scene. He loosened his grip once they were quite far away from Sirius, and did not bother answering James's question, who quickly went over to Peter and Sirius with a deep set frown.

Hermione shrugged out of Remus's grasp once Hogsmeade village was just a distant image, and she quickly sped up to the path that led back to Hogwarts. Though Remus was silent, she knew that he was trailing behind her still. He did not bother asking questions, merely followed her back up to the castle.

Once she entered the Entrance Hall he spoke. "Are you going back to your dormitory?"

Hermione folded her arms and lowered her gaze. "No."

He waited a while before responding. "Would you mind a little company?"

Hermione glanced up at Remus, seeing his sincere and open face. He was not pushing her, and she knew he would not be hurt if she refused.

Instead she replied, "No."

She began to walk slowly, and Remus gave her space and walked a few paces behind. They wandered through the corridors, seemingly aimlessly but they both knew that there was a purpose behind her strides.

Hermione stopped in front of a familiar stretch of wall and closed her eyes.

_Take me home,_  she thought.

Slowly a door began to form, and when it became completely solid she turned the knob.

What she saw before her was the Weasley's living room.

Her lower lip began to tremble as she walked inside slowly. It was exactly how she remembered, down to every photograph to the grandfather clock. She lowered herself onto the couch and took a ragged breath. She looked at the coffee table and saw the photograph of all the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione at the last Christmas break just a few months ago.

She hadn't even realized when she began to cry, but she felt the seat next her dip and a hand pat her gently. It seemed everything she'd been reeling back inside had finally burst, spilling from her until she was left feeling raw. She had been keeping it in for so long, had not spilled tears since the day she used the Time-Turner to land her here. She cried for the friends she once knew, and would not be friends with the same way ever again. She cried for losing her parents, whom she never got to say goodbye too and only saw a few weeks each year. She cried for losing  _everything_ , finally being selfish enough to mourn the losses with the task Dumbledore had given her.

When she finally calmed down, her eyes felt swollen and her body had found itself leaning against Remus's reassuring side.

After several moments, Remus spoke.

"Is this your home?" he asked tentatively.

Hermione sniffled. "No, it's my best friend's home. Was my best friend's home."

He paused again. "And that picture…those were you friends?"

"Yes," she said softly. She felt Remus stiffen beside her.

"Hermione," Remus said slowly, "why am I in this picture?"


	6. The Letter

**Chapter Six**

_The Letter_ **  
**

In just one moment, everything in Hermione's mind stopped.

Slowly lifting her head off of Remus's shoulder, she stared in mortification when she spotted the rectangular picture frame in his hands. It was the one she saw earlier, with her, Harry, Ron…and apparently, Remus as well.

Her eyes slid to Remus's face. His expression was carefully composed, but she knew inside he was in complete turmoil.

Why hadn't she noticed it before? She knew exactly the day, when the four of them smiled precariously, knowing that the cheerful moment would not last for the days to come.

Why did she have to come here with Remus? She should have just told him to leave her behind; she could have avoided this.

And yet, here she was.

Her throat went dry. "I…I'm not sure," she said shakily. "I don't really recognize that picture."

Her mind began working again, and when it did it was racing.  _Room of Requirement. Fit to one's needs. Requirement. Change._  "It…it was probably the room. You were comforting me, and it probably just added you with my friends."

Remus stared at her for a long moment, then back at the picture. Slowly he set it back at the table, his eyes still frozen on it. "The room can do that?"

Hermione suppressed a shaky breath. "I guess it can."

He paused for a moment. "I look older."

Hermione bit her lip, wanting to destroy the Room for being so precise in its detail of Ron's living room. She attempted a small smile. "You always come off older than you look, Remus. That's just my brain relaying it in the Room."

His look of apprehension did not fade, and Hermione knew that if she did not show him proof he would not be convinced. Leaning over, she grasped the frame and stared at it, concentrating and praying what she did would work.

The picture began to transform as she demanded something new from the Room of Requirement. Remus watched her carefully as her eyes narrowed in concentration. She let out a small sigh and her face brightened.

She handed over the picture frame, and he turned it over. His eyes widened and he let out a loose laugh, a mixture of confusion and genuine mirth.

On the frame was Dumbledore dressed in a very exquisitely decorated dress robe, with ruffles and sequin and a shocking pink color all throughout. "I see," Remus smiled and then set the frame back on the table.

Hermione sagged inwardly in relief. A possibly fatal mistake was averted. In her vulnerable mindset she had almost given away that she was not from this time, and by some stroke of luck Remus believed her.

Deep inside, she knew that she could not keep this secret forever. If she was true to herself, Hermione knew that she could not do this on her own, and eventually she would tell Remus who she was. But right now was not the time to dump all her problems onto a couple of fifteen-year-olds. At least, not until she found a way to destroy the horcruxes without the sword of Gryffindor.

Hermione remained in deep thought, long enough that Remus patted her shoulder gently to snap her from her reverie. "Are you feeling a bit better now?" he said with a questioning look.

She pushed wild strands of hair away from her face and swiped her hands against her cheeks, trying to remove the remnants of her mental breakdown, and nodded.

"Do you want to get something to eat?"

Hermione was about to decline when she realized that she was indeed hungry, and the time spent in Hogsmeade as well as crying in the Room of Requirement had built an extremely strong appetite inside of her. She nodded again, and Remus stood up and straightened his clothes before holding out his hand. She took it and his fingers closed around hers gently, giving her a reassuring smile.

They walked back to the Great Hall and lunch was just about to start. She sat down heavily against the bench and grabbed a sandwich that materialized on a silver plate in front of her, taking a generous bite.

Remus took his goblet and raised his eyebrows, clearly amused how it filled even though lunch had not begun, and drank deeply.

He set the goblet down and sighed, then stretched out his arms above his head. Hermione watched him yawn a bit, then run a hand through his sandy hair and shake the tiredness from his head.

She didn't even know when she started smiling until Remus gave her a curious look. "What?"

The smile vanished. "Nothing," she said quickly. "Just that…you look so young."

He chuckled lightly, looking adorably puzzled. "What else am I supposed to look like?"

Hermione wondered if he ever could imagine his life twenty years from now. How his boyish looks would fade much faster than normal, how the hardships in his life would force him to grow up quickly.

She shrugged, taking a liberal bite from the sandwich. "I don't know…I'm just more accustomed to serious-Remus, not normal-Remus, I suppose."

He gave her a withering look and rolled his eyes, which quickly lighted with relief when the tables in the Great Hall were finally filled with heaping amounts of food. "Contrary to popular belief, Miss Hermione," Remus said with a quirk of a brow as he piled his plate, " _I_  am not as serious as you think."

Hermione raised a brow. "Oh? Are you a closet rule-breaker, Mr. Lupin?"

He gave a secretive smirk, and Hermione knew his mind was thinking of his Marauder adventures. "You'll never know, now will you?"

He watched her for a few more moments as she continued to chew thoughtfully. His eyes flickered over her before he spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she replied.

"What was that at Hogsmeade? What made you attack Sirius?"

She stopped mid-chew. Swallowing hard, she set the remainder of her sandwich back down onto the plate. "He said something extremely offensive. I'd rather not go into it in detail."

"Did he say it on purpose?"

Hermione pressed her lips in a thin line, and nodded.

Remus sighed, finding difficulty in choosing the right words. "It's just…I've never seen him like this. He's so riled up, never staying still…and...to say something like that, with the intention to hurt? That's not him."

"Isn't he always like that?"

He smiled painfully. "Well yes. But ever since…" his voice trailed and his eyes flickered up at hers hesitantly, "this year started, everything about him's intensified. It's like he can't stay put, something's always churning in that deviant little mind of his…I mean, he hasn't been this way since the beginning of first year…"

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, since the beginning of first year?"

Remus shrugged. "When school started he was just like this. Temperamental. Ostentatious."

Hermione slouched slightly and sighed. "Remus, I really have no idea what this has to do with me or where this is going."

He looked at her with a little trepidation. "I don't think it has to do with you, not entirely. He's...he's had a difficult upbringing."

Hermione looked up resignedly. "Look, Remus. I understand that he's your best friend, but what he said to me today is inexcusable. It doesn't matter how hard someone's life has been. Allowing that to be an excuse to be cruel is not the answer."

Remus inhaled deeply, then picked up his fork. "Okay."

Hermione blinked. "That's it?"

Remus nodded. "That's it."

Hermione gazed at him, seeing the truth reflecting back at her. It was...surprising.

A smiled curled on Remus's lips. "Though you'll have to teach me where you land a hit like that."

Her face heated, and the memory of literally  _punching_  Sirius came rushing back, remembering how unconcerned she had been that Sirius could easily overpower. Adrenaline clearly did strange and miraculous things to her bravery.

"It wasn't the first time I punched a boy," said Hermione vaguely. "The last one was a wart beyond imagining."

Remus chuckled, unable to contain the grin. "You are quite the witch, Hermione," Remus said with a shake of his head. "All circumstances aside…I'm very glad someone like you showed up at Hogwarts. I was beginning to think there would be no one else as accepting as you."

Hermione tilted her head slightly. "Remus," she lowered her voice slightly. "Does…does Lily know?"

The smile on Remus's face faltered a little. "No," he said quietly.

Hermione nodded slowly. Remus sighed. "It's not something I tell people at all."

Hermione nodded in understanding, but her eyebrows furrowed when a thought struck her. "But…James and Sirius and—"

"I never told them," he said honestly. "The only ones who knew were Dumbledore and the professors.  _They_  figured it out all on their own. I suppose anyone even slightly observant would be able to figure out why I would disappear the night of and after the full moon."

Hermione nodded in agreement. After all, that was exactly what she'd done in her third year when Lupin was her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Forget I even asked," Hermione said, and resumed eating her sandwich again and effectively dismissing the subject.

Remus slowly began eating again, and soon the pair were both lost in their own thoughts. Remus's were more centered on his lycanthropy, wishing Hermione never had to know the gruesome side of him…whereas Hermione's thoughts halted when she saw a group of cloaked figures laughing and entering the Great Hall.

Hermione easily recognized the grey, steely eyes with hair around his face as Regulus. He was accompanied with his fellow Slytherin friends, snickering at a joke someone had made.

His eyes slid over to Hermione's, the grin freezing in place. She wasn't sure what to expect, so she merely tilted her head.

Regulus then blinked and turned around, deciding the best action was to ignore her.

Hermione sighed. Why did everything she set out to do end up working in the reverse?

"Remus," Hermione asked suddenly. "Can you tell me more about Sirius's brother?"

Remus blinked and then followed Hermione's gaze to where Regulus currently seated. He raised a brow. "It's quite a long and complex story that I'm not sure even I know fully." When Hermione continued to stare at him expectantly, he caved in. "They've been tense around each other since Regulus was sorted into Slytherin. Sirius thinks he's become a traditional Black family clone, mindlessly following their ancestor's footsteps. I think he's being just a tad dramatic about it, if you ask me. Then again, I don't even know the full story."

Hermione frowned. It was odd that Sirius would keep his private life so tightly wound up that he did not even disclose a lot of information to his closest friends in the world. She watched the boys at the Slytherin table thoughtfully. Regulus did not seem the type to follow orders given by his mother and father, very much like Sirius. But it was undeniable that Regulus was enticed by the Dark Arts, especially when she saw the necklace he was fiddling around with the day she met him…

She glanced at Regulus one last time before standing up from the table. "I'm going to go the library," she said, and Remus nodded.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's alright. I'll see you in the common room later."

She left the Great Hall quickly, striding down the long stretches of corridors. It was cold, but Hermione steeled herself against it. A lot had happened today, and a lot was churning through her mind. It was time she pushed all other thing aside and focused on the task at hand.

A much younger Madam Prince gave her a calculating glance as Hermione stepped into the library. She knew the place by heart, having walked along the dusty shelves crammed with massive textbooks hundreds of times.

Spotting Regulus in the Great Hall was a wake-up call for her. She had to mentally shake herself to get her mind back on track, for while she may be stuck spending the rest of her life in this era, it did not mean that Hermione should get lost into the drama and forget why she even used the damned red-sanded Time-Turner a few months ago.

…A few  _months_  ago?

The realization struck her hard, and she mentally berated herself for getting so caught up in…well,  _everything_. But what the hell was she supposed to do? Yes, she found one of Voldemort's horcruxes, but she had no means of destroying it yet. There were still six others out there, and that was only if Voldemort had actually  _made_  them all yet. But it would be wiser to begin searching and destroying now, and be ahead of the game. It was the most effective move she could play, but not one she was certain was going to be as easy said as done.

She had also set her aspiration to become an Animagus on the back burner. It could be extremely useful, especially if she was in a tight situation and needed a quick escape. Transfiguring oneself into an animal counterpart would prove effective on more than one occasion. If she remembered well, the way Sirius had escaped when imprisoned in Azkaban was transforming into a black dog and slipping through the bars.

Hermione realized going to the library was useless at the moment. She needed to read about Horcruxes, and if even Tom bloody Riddle had some difficulty researching it thirty years ago, she doubted it would be any easier right now.

She sighed and leaned against a book shelf. She would need to go to the restricted section, if anything. She supposed a Disillusionment charm would suffice, but it was times like these that she sorely wished the Invisibility cloak she was positive James Potter had in his possession was at her disposal.

Blowing a wisp of hair out of her eyes, Hermione sighed and decided to research transfiguration instead, not wishing to return to the common room just yet. Though she already knew quite a lot about Animagi, especially after having six years of Transfiguration with McGonagall, it never hurt to brush up on the details. And if she was going to breach the subject of actually transforming herself into a creature, she felt much safer knowing every possible thing about it first.

As she perused the shelves, the stack of books in her arms began piling up until the last book created a wobbly tower that reached up to her nose. Struggling heavily, she managed to reach a table in the corner of the library and dumped the old texts from her arms. She massaged her arms a bit after relieving herself of the heavy strain, wincing at the deep indents made in her skin from the leather bindings of the books.

Hermione sat down quietly, staring at the mass of parchment before her. Taking a breath, she grasped one and began to read.

**xxx**

Remus was just about to walk up to the boys' dormitory when the common room's portrait hole swung open and students began pouring inside.

He was greeted by several fellow Gryffindors, a few younger ones braving to talk to his fifth-year self. What he really wanted to do was escape the irritatingly loud noise and retreat to his four-poster for a much needed nap, but the moment he spotted James, Sirius, Lily, and Peter, he knew it was a wistful dream.

Sirius did not look so much angry as generally pissed off at whatever breathed in his direction. James looked slightly annoyed but a refreshing smile lit his face when saw Remus, and Peter looked like…well, Peter.

Lily was the first to come up to him. Her cheeks were tinged pink, undoubtedly from the frosty air outside. "Is Hermione upstairs?" she inquired.

Remus shook his head. "No, I don't think so. She said she wanted to go to the library."

Lily smiled in thanks and headed back for the portrait hole.

"Wheedled your way out of staying in Hogsmeade, did you, Moony?" James smiled as he came up next to Remus.

He shrugged, walking over to a stuffed armchair and sinking down tiredly. "It wasn't like I wanted to, mind you. I was a bit occupied."

A snort came from Sirius's direction, who also had decided to sit nearby. "That's a funny way of putting it, Remus," Sirius said mockingly

"Oh shut it, you great prune," James snapped with surprisingly genuine irritation. "Because of  _your_  little act  _we're_  thrown out from half of Hogsmeade's shops indefinitely."

"What happened?" Remus asked, his curiosity sparked.

It was Peter who gave the stiff reply. "Sirius decided it would be fun to turn the windows of each shop into caramel," he said dryly. "We're not allowed in Madame Puddifoots, Zonko's, and Honeydukes for a very long time."

"I personally though Zonko's of all places would've had a laugh at the caramel stint," said James somberly. "But I guess when everybody started eating the store they were a bit angry…"

"They're tossers," Sirius glowered, "and if they can't have a laugh a bit of harmless magic, we don't need to be in those shops anyway."

"What I still don't get is why you felt the compulsion to turn the stores into an afternoon dessert," said James. He stared at Sirius intently.

Sirius looked up and glanced around, noticed all three of his friends staring at him expectantly. "Oh come off it," he snapped. "We're bloody Marauders, we do this all the time."

"Not usually in fits of rage, though," said Peter quietly.

"He's got a point, Padfoot," said James.

Sirius huffed and seeing he would be getting no sympathy from the two, he turned to Remus. Remus merely frowned and looked down at his folded hands. Sirius's expression turned sour.

"What is this, an intervention?" Sirius glared and stood up from his seat. "I was bored. Why is this such a big deal?"

James stood up. "Because ever since this year started, you haven't been the same," he said, standing in front of him until they were a foot away. "And we're just trying to keep up, mate. One minute you're fine and the next you're blowing steam at anything crossing your path."

"Again, how is this not normal for me?"

"I think you know the answer to that question," said Remus quietly. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither willing to back down and neither willing to say aloud what everyone was thinking.

"To hell with you all," said Sirius quietly, and he strode out of the common room and ripped the portrait open and slammed it shut, causing the Fat Lady to let out a string of unladylike words of anger.

James stood for a few more seconds after Sirius's exit, then finally lowered himself onto an armchair. "Shit," he murmured.

"No kidding," Peter said dully.

Remus turned his head towards James, who looked back at him incredulously. "I think that's the first time we've gotten in an argument since…shit, I can't even remember."

Remus nodded, but his mind was going in circles. Was Sirius's behavior really an onset because of Hermione? He could not believe that he would go this outrageous because of a girl. No, surely there was more to this than was being let on…

Suddenly he stood, maneuvering towards the portrait hole.

"Where are you going?" James called.

Remus turned around and shrugged lightly. "For a walk." Without another word, Remus stepped through the hole and swung the portrait open.

"Are you going to slam my frame too?" the Fat Lady said accusingly once he was out of the common room. Remus tilted his head and offered her a polite smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

**xxx**

Hermione was knee-deep in ancient text when a figure plopped down next to her. Hermione jolted slightly, only to sigh and run a hand through her head when the girl next to her began to snicker.

"Don't you have anyone else to terrorize?" groaned Hermione, though if she was honest with herself seeing Lily right now was a very welcome change of scenery.

Lily's bright green eyes glinted against the soft yellow glow of the candles glittering around the room. "Everyone else is far too boring," she replied with a devious smile. "Besides, I'd much rather spend my day in the library reading up on…" her head tilted to read the cover of one of the many books littered across the table. "… _The Art of Shape-Shifting_ ," she said dryly. "I'm pretty sure McGonagall didn't assign us anything over our first Hogsmeade weekend."

"I like to be very thorough," was the best she could answer. She couldn't very well tell her that she was researching her own path to becoming an Animagus.

Lily sighed deeply. "So, how come you disappeared so early today? Didn't you have fun at Hogsmeade?"

Hermione suppressed rolling her eyes. Instead, she answered, "I've had better days." Hermione narrowed her eyes shrewdly. "But what of you, Evans? How was your day with the forever elusive potions master?"

Hermione's lips almost quirked at her own words, knowing full well that that title would indeed become Snape's in the years to come.

Lily shrugged. "It was alright."

Hermione stared at her until she finally caved in.

"Oh alright! It was nice! Though I still don't see what all the fuss was about, we did exactly the same things we've done any other Hogsmeade trip!" Lily huffed a little. "And plus, Potter and his band of hooligans showed up midway through the trip, so that wasn't exactly a highlight of our day. Did you know Sirius threw a hexing fit all over the shops?"

" _What?_ "

Lily smiled at her aghast expression. "Oh yes, it was quite a sight," she said conversationally. "Turned the shops' windows into fudge. Or was it caramel? The details tend to become fuzzy after a while."

Hermione looked away with a blank sort of expression. "That's…well, creative, I guess," was her only response.

Lily nodded. "I think that was the first time I saw James seriously irritated."

Hermione snorted.

Lily sighed and leaned her elbows on the table. "I know you're quite perceptive about things, love, especially when it comes to me and Severus and—unfortunately—me and James," she said his name a little bitterly, as if she didn't want to admit feeling something less than complete aversion to him. "But give me some credit, Hermione. I'm not as dim as you think. I know there is something more than what it seems here. With Sirius."

Hermione wanted to groan. Lily was quickly becoming the fast-witted equivalent to Ginny Weasley back in her own time, and while it was extremely flattering to have a friend who knew her well enough to read between the lines, it also became quite troublesome in leading a solitary life.

"I don't know what to say, Lily," Hermione said honestly. "He...he said something very terrible about my past. And I don't think I have it in me to forgive him."

"Did—did he—" Lily lowered her voice, suddenly livid. "Did he take a jab at your  _parents?_ "

Hermione shook her head, alarmed at the crackling energy that seemed to engulf Lily. "No, no! Lily, no," she gently placed her hand on Lily's shoulder. "No, nothing like that. It was close enough, though, about my friends. About...how they're not...around anymore."

Lily peered at Hermione carefully, before something like understanding dawned on her. The agitation did not dissipate from Lily's body.

"I'll speak to him."

"It's done with," Hermione said tiredly. "I've already moved past it. I just need my  _friend_  right now," Hermione smiled, and an unwilling one tugged on Lily's lips. "You know, red hair? Green eyes? Sharp as a whip?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh, fine. But just say the word, and you know what I can do."

"I'll remember that."

Lily sighed dramatically. "Bloody  _boys_. I say, off with their heads and more chocolate for us," she grinned, pulling Hermione to her feet and taking her away from the desk.

"Wait, I'm not finished," she protested, looking back forlornly at the pile of books.

"I don't really care," said Lily airily. "It's the weekend and I bought stuff from Hogsmeade that I'm quite sure I won't be able to finish all by myself."

Before they left the library Hermione quickly waved her wand towards the desk she was sitting on and the books rose in the air, flying to their respective bookshelves and tucking neatly onto the shelves.

**xxx**

Remus felt the chill October air hit him icily, and he crossed his arms across his chest in effort to retain some warmth to his body. It had grown darker outside, and the sky was already glittering with a few stars. He climbed up a few steps that led to the top of the Astronomy tower, his eyes moving searchingly for who he was looking for. When he saw a figure leaning across the ledge, he almost smiled.

Remus did not say anything as he slowly made his way next to Sirius. He leaned against the ledge, just as he was. Through the corner of his eye he saw Sirius stiffen next to him, but remained silent.

A puff of smoke passed through Sirius's lips, and Remus raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you start fancying that?"

A smile twitched on Sirius's lips. "Since I started passing off as older than I look." He shook a square pack of cigarettes with a roguish grin. "Got this when I ditched mum at that wizarding convention over the summer. But I told you that already."

"Yes, you did," nodded Remus. "But I didn't think you'd actually start."

Sirius grunted. "I'm turning bloody sixteen in a few weeks anyway, yeah. Might as well try it instead of staring at the damn pack for the next two years."

Sirius brought the white cylinder to his lips again and Remus stared out the tower over to the Hogwarts grounds. He saw the Forbidden forest, the tops of the leaves rustling softly against a gust of wind. All the monsters and creatures and silent predators were carefully stowed inside the vast stretch of wood, and with a glint of irony Remus wondered if sooner or later he would be thrust in there as well.

Remus stared at his folded hands. "Hermione was asking about Regulus today," he said. Sirius made no comment, and exhaled a puff of smoke a little slower than normal.

"Is that so," he said nonchalantly. "What did you say?"

Remus looked over at his friend and shrugged lightly. "What I always say. The question is, where does this involve you?"

A ragged breath escaped Sirius, and his posture deflated against the ledge. He flicked the cigarette down the tower and lowered his head, reaching into his robe pocket.

He held out a letter, and Remus grasped it lightly. Turning it over he saw the Black family crest sealed on the back, though it was already broken. Remus lifted the flap and took out the square of parchment inside.

Sirius watched as Remus's eyes moved carefully over the scripted words, watched as a deep set frown began carving its way on his mouth. Finally he blinked and tucked the letter back inside the envelope, then handed it back to Sirius.

"I see," said Remus quietly.

Sirius nodded, raking a hand tensely through his wavy locks. "I won't go," he said quietly. "I don't—and that little  _shit_  struts around here, knowing what's happening—"

"Sirius, he's still young, he's not like them yet," said Remus patiently.

"Like hell he's not!" snapped Sirius. "He's just like mummy dearest, always sticking his nose up in the air. And father just  _loves_  him, wishes  _he_  was first born—fuck, he can have the spot. I want nothing to do with it."

"And you don't have to," said Remus forcefully. Sirius glanced up at him, half with barely repressed frustration and half with hopeless desperation. " _You_  decide how you live your life, Sirius."

A ghost of a smile hinted on Sirius's lips, his eyes staring far off in a distance. "I think someone said that to me before…"

He sighed and stared out across the ledge again. Almost hesitantly, he spoke again. "I know… _I know_  I haven't been the same lately. But at least now you  _must_ know why."

Remus nodded, but pinned him with a stern look. "I just don't understand why you kept this from me. From James and Peter. You know we don't keep secrets from each other."

Sirius smiled ironically. "Says the master of secrets himself." Remus glanced away and Sirius sighed. "I can't help it sometimes, mate. I can't force you three to keep me standing all the time. Sometimes…I have to deal with it on my own."

"Is that what you're going to do over the Christmas holidays?" asked Remus, his eyes filled with sadness. "Deal with it on your own?"

Sirius stared at his friend for a long moment. Quietly, he replied, "I have no other choice."

Remus breathed in deeply, glancing away again. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, the weight of a ton of bricks resting on his shoulders, but he knew that it was nothing compared to the weight forced upon Sirius. Clearing his throat, he walked over and slung his arm around Sirius's shoulders. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to hit the sack now," he began walking towards the stairs, Sirius following him by his side.

"Yeah, I'm pretty knackered," Sirius agreed, yawning wide. They walked in agreeable silence before Sirius broke it, suddenly asking, "Did…did Hermione say anything else?"

Remus gave a sidelong look before shrugging. "Not much, just the usual. You were an arse. She has other things to focus on. Life moves on."

Sirius lowered his gaze. "I...I didn't know."

Remus paused. "Know what?"

"About her friends. Last night, she said—she said her friends were dead. I thought she was being dramatic, I didn't believe her. But today..." He exhaled, rubbing his eyes vigorously. "I can't believe what I did."

Remus look at him thoughtfully. "You could try with saying you're sorry."

Sirius made a noise of dissent, shaking his head. "Words are nothing."

Remus raised a brow. "Words just destroyed a friendship today. Words are everything."

Sirius closed his eyes. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

After a moment, Remus said quietly, "She concerns me, Sirius."

His eyes snapped up to Remus's. "Why?"

Remus shook his head. "That's the thing…I just don't know. She really is a nice girl, she's smart and genuine and funny and truly someone I'm happy to be friends with. But something is off, and it's not just with what happened to her over the summer. Something about her…just doesn't sit well."

Sirius nodded slowly. "I know…she's lovely, I'll give you that, but the day on the train when we first met…" he trailed, not knowing what words to say. "I know what you mean."

Remus thought back to the incident in the Room of Requirement that occurred earlier in the day, and he grew even more unsettled just thinking about it. He opened his mouth to speak when a distant shout made the pair jump.

"Get to bed already!" they heard Professor McGonagall bark, and they turned to see her striding across the hall.

"It's only eight o'clock," Sirius protested.

"I don't care, seeing the two of you at nighttime is never a good sign," said McGonagall sternly as she paused in front of him. She scrutinized the two boys before waving off her hand. "Off you go, now. Curfew is about to begin anyway, and I don't want any other teacher finding a reason to deduct more house points than I already will."

The two boys blanched. "Why are you taking away points?" said Remus incredulously.

McGonagall stared at them, her eyes narrowing. "I was going to do this in the morning, but since you're already here I might as well start." She turned to Sirius, who shrank slightly under her intense gaze. "I received several distressed owls today about your little bout of fun in Hogsmeade," said McGonagall, looking none too amused. Sirius grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"About that…"

She raised a hand and silenced him. "I don't want to know. I told you in your third year that any misbehaviors in Hogsmeade would revoke your visiting privileges." Sirius's eyes widened instantly, his expression completely floored. McGonagall observed this with dry humor. "For now, though, you are banned from visiting until the spring, as well as serving detention with me up until, and on, Halloween."

McGonagall gave one last look before moving past them and began walking with a swish of her robes. She stopped and looked back at Sirius, who was still frozen on the spot. "Oh right, and forty points from Gryffindor for your misconduct…and for lack of creativity."

Both Remus and Sirius blanched, and McGonagall gave them a disappointed look. "Five years I've taught you, and the best transfiguration spell you thought of was  _that?_ " Shaking her head one last time, she turned and disappeared into the next corridor.

Sirius stood stunned, watching where McGonagall had been just moments before. Remus shook his head and patted his friend's shoulder. "Let it go, mate," he said somberly.

"Banned until spring…" he mumbled slowly as he resumed walking.

"Be happy she didn't say forever," Remus reminded. "It could have been far worse."

Sirius gave a withering look and rolled his eyes. "Says the one who's never gotten a detention in his life."

Remus smiled good-naturedly and told him to get over it.

**xxx**

Hermione swatted a lingering fly from her ear and forced her mind to pay attention to the Care of Magical Creatures professor, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Her toes were already frozen from the crisp ground, and as much as Hermione hated to admit it, having to repeat her schooling was, for lack of better word…boring.

She had thought that perhaps in the seventies there were some spells or enchantments they did not teach students in the nineties anymore, and while that was the case sometimes (exceptionally in potions), most of the material was a line-for-line regurgitation of the lessons she learned in her own time. Also, the fact that Care of Magical Creatures had never been her particularly favorite subject had a hand in her boredom, especially without having Hagrid teaching.

Hermione smiled wryly at the memory of lessons with Hagrid. It had started magnificently with his first lesson with the hippogriff Buckbeak, but after the Malfoy incident, his lessons had spiraled downwards into mundane teachings of Blast-ended Skrewts creatures even ghosts would yawn at.

The good thing about the lesson, however, was that it gave her plenty of time to reflect upon how to spend the remainder of her time before the Christmas holidays. It was already nearing the end of October, tonight being Hallow's eve. Hermione had done quite a lot of research on Animagi and had finally begun practicing at the start of the week, sneaking into the Room of Requirement again at the dead of night. It was immensely difficult, and Hermione quickly realized it did not matter how many books she read or how many theories she'd observed; becoming and Animagus was unlike any form of magic she'd ever done. Yes, she was proficient in nonverbal spells, but wandless magic, magic from  _within_ , was not something she had ever dabbled into, or thought plausible at such a young age.

The horcrux under her bed was also making its presence known even more than normal each night when she would come back to her dormitory to sleep. She could feel it, like a second heartbeat in her chest, vibrating against her own soul like a parasite. It disturbed her greatly, enough that she had begun to avoid her bed and assumed sleeping down on the common room sofas. She would pretend to study and have her books laid out each night, but would quickly find herself passed out within seconds of sitting on the sofa. Luckily she awoke before the other students and managed to slip upstairs just in time to freshen up and get ready for classes, but she would by lying to herself if she said that it wasn't taking a toll on her.

The sudden movement of the fifth years around her caused her to snap back into reality, and Hermione belatedly realized the lesson was over. Stretching her arms out, Hermione sighed and began retreating from the part of the forbidden forest that their lessons were held in.

She was far behind than the rest of the class, and even her professor had hobbled away quite some time ago as well. She supposed that was one difference between her time and the current one; before, the students would be escorted together back to the castle grounds in fear of having one or two students wandering on their own in the dangerous forest. Now that policy was a bit more lenient.

She sighed. She'd been through these parts plenty of times with Harry and Ron, and she knew where the herd of centaurs lived—much deeper in the forest—so she did not feel particularly unsafe.

As her eyes wandered up the great trunks of the trees surrounding her, she heard a muffled sound near the left. Frowning, her pace slowed a bit. It was probably just an animal wandering about, and Hermione was disinclined to explore and find out which creature she'd discovered. Shaking her head, she continued her pace.

She had only made it a few steps when she heard the sound again, only this time she knew for certain that it belonged to a person.

_Perhaps a student got lost on their way back to the castle after class?_  Hermione mused, and began a hesitant walk towards the sounds. The voices grew louder but only by a fraction, and finally Hermione reached a small clearing where she saw huddle figures speaking amongst themselves.

What she saw before her made her freeze on the spot.

"I don't see why that is a problem," she heard the voice of Severus say coolly.

"It just seems like a double standard," a boy, considerably taller than him who she identified as a Slytherin based on his clothes, said with a sneer. "Claiming to agree with us, and yet your actions far outweigh the promising words…"

"You don't know me at all," Severus hissed softly.

"We know what we see, and what we see is not encouraging."

She watched Severus take a step closer to the boy fearlessly, and tilted his head. "That spell that you're planning on using right now? The one that's become exceedingly popular over the years…what was it again…?"

A second later the boy was hanging upside down, as if being held by the ankle. Hermione recognized the spell as  _levicorpus_ , but was puzzled when she noted that she had not heard Severus utter it though his wand was firmly gripped in his hand.

The surrounding boys around the pair growled and stepped forward, but Snape merely raised his wand and had them all petrified within moments. Hermione's jaw dropped; what the in  _Merlin's_  name was he doing?

"How did you know?" said Avery with a hint of fear.

"You see, Avery," said Severus calmly, and Hermione widened her eyes as he began rolling his wand between his fingers, "the irony is that the very jinxes you adore to use, are the very same ones that  _I_  created."

"What?" Hermione breathed in consternation.  _Levicorpus_ …that spell was invented by  _Snape_?

"What do you want?" Avery growled.

Severus looked up at him with a sneer. Slowly leaning forward, he hissed, "A little more  _respect._ "

With a slash of his wand Avery fell to the ground, knocked unconscious. Snape grimaced down at him and shook his head in disgust, then muttered, "You can release your little friends from the spell once you come 'round."

Giving one last glance at the boys he petrified, he turned on his heal and began walking away.

Hermione was stunned. The exchange she saw was not just with a group of Slytherins…it was a group of future  _Death Eaters_. She recognized the other boys now as Crabbe and Goyle senior, along with Mulciber.

Not only that, but Severus had used Occlumency on Avery and read his mind.

Casting a disillusionment charm on herself, she approached the clearing quietly. Raising her wand, she released the boys from the  _petrificus totalus_  spell and watched them stagger to their feet, then scurrying over to the unconscious Avery.

Hermione turned and began running, her feet pounding against the unstable forest ground, and more than once she nearly twisted her ankle from landing on a gnarled root or a stone. Her breath was shallow, her vision only allowing her the sight of the castle a few hundred feet away. When she finally emerged from the forest entrance, she staggered a little and leaned against a tree.

She was already too late.

The beginnings of alliances and formations of the Death Eaters had begun. It was  _too early_ , far too early, and nothing that Hermione had ever anticipated. She thought she had  _time_ ; she thought that her budding friendship with Severus would help prevent him being lured into the fanatical followers of Lord Voldemort.

She was wrong.

Hermione wanted to collapse and wring her hair out of her head until she bled. Why was it never enough? Even going to the past to fix things, she was still failing. How could Dumbledore ever think that a sixteen-year-old girl could rewrite the future? How could he put something like this on her and expect her to succeed?

Everything she had been doing up until now…useless. She had already probably encouraged Regulus Black's enticement to the Death Eater ways, and from what she saw that afternoon at the Black lake, he was already heavily immersed in the Dark Arts.

Her hands began to shake, and the bark of the tree was biting into the skin of her back through her robes. Pushing off from it, Hermione planted one foot in front of the other and walked unsteadily back into the castle.

Students were bustling around, heading to their next class fervently. Hermione walked up the grand staircase and to her dormitory to get her books for the evening, but her mind was far and away.

The dorm was vacant, and Hermione sat on her bed and retrieved the books in the satchel next to it. Taking a few out, she picked out those that she needed for today and took out the ones that could be left behind.

Her eyes caught glimpse of her potions book, and with a sinking feeling she reminded herself that her next class would be Potions.

The bag in her hands began shaking. Angrily she thrust it away from her and dropped to her knees on the floor. Ripping out her trunk, she disabled the various charms and spells she put on it and tore out the sparkling diadem. It burned in her hands, filling her mind with a thick blanket of darkness. Her eyes were dry but her throat still constricted as her fingers gripped the metal bruisingly.

An animal scream left her mouth as she flung it in the air and snatched her wand out of her pocket, and began belting out curse after curse, hitting it repeatedly with every malevolent thought in her mind. It tossed and turned in the air wretchedly, and she heard a shriek-like scream erupt from the horcrux that only her ears could hear. Her eyes went mad as it dropped harmlessly to the floor after a vicious attack of  _incendio_ , but she knew from the start that her attempts would do nothing to the crown. The only spell that was powerful to destroy the horcrux at the moment was fiendfyre, and that was not something she could control, especially in her state of mind.

She wanted to cry, but she could not. They would not come anyway if she tried. Her eyes were horribly dry, her mind nauseously empty, and her body thoroughly drained.

"What do I do?" she whispered to herself in a hollow voice.

In the back of her head a small voice replied, " _Everything_."

Slowly she walked over to where the diadem had fallen and put it back carefully in her trunk, placing the charms on it again. Her eyes fell on the pack that she had taken with her from the future, filled with textbooks and pictures and everything that was her last tie to the life she once had. Sighing, she closed the trunk and pushed it back under her bed.

The sudden attack of nerves Hermione experienced was a first for her. Usually she was calm, collected, quick-witted and logical even in the most stressful situations. But the evidence of her failure had been too much for her, had always been too much for her. She never stopped to think that Severus had always been attracted to the Dark Magic, and that her friendship alone would not be enough to stop him from converting. Why didn't she see it? Even Lily Evans's friendship had not been enough for him in the other past. He had still become a Death Eater and had inadvertently caused her death.

After a few minutes, Hermione recollected herself and headed towards the dungeons for her Potions lesson. She entered the chilly classroom, walking over to the bench where Severus was waiting for her.

She sat down mechanically and Severus immediately smiled. "Hello Hermione," he said cheerfully.

Hermione glanced at him for a second, not trusting herself to look at him completely. "Good evening, Severus," she replied.

"You're usually more punctual than this, Hermione. I expected you to be here five minutes before I arrived. I'm a bit disappointed."

Her eyes flashed and suddenly she was glaring at him. "You're one to talk," she said in a scathing tone, but the true wrath of her did not yet reach the surface. Severus was taken aback for a moment and frowned.

Before he could speak, Slughorn walked in and began his lesson. He lectured for a good ten minutes then assigned the draft they were to make that evening. She noticed Severus giving her several uncertain glances, and Hermione did her best to pretend she didn't notice. She hopped off the stool the moment Slughorn finished speaking and said, "I'll get the ingredients."

She walked over to the shelf and picked out the ingredients carefully. She knew she should be more careful not ruin the scraps of friendship they shared, even if she caught had him in what was probably the beginnings of a Death Eater meeting. She knew all this. She just hoped she would stick to her guns.

When she couldn't prolong her perusal any longer, Hermione walked back to the bench. Severus already had set up the cauldron and had it on a low simmer.

Hermione methodically began making the draft with him, keeping her voice neutral and calm. It was an immense effort, but she pulled through. They had finished a good twenty minutes early when Severus tried to get her attention again.

"Hermione, is something wrong?"

_Yes, everything._  "No," she answered.

"Why won't you look at me?"

"Don't be silly," she said, and looked him directly in the eye. "See?"

He opened his mouth to say more when Slughorn reached their table. "Done already?" he said happily. "Why am I still surprised? You two are the most brilliant brewers of the class!"

Hermione handed him a vial with the sample of the draft to him, and Slughorn smiled. "I'm very impressed. Young Mister Snape is already a part of it, but I see no reason why I shouldn't extend my invitation to a mind as brilliant as yours." He lowered his voice, leaning towards Hermione secretively. "I would like you to consider being a part of a club I started many, many years ago. Elite students with exceptional potential. I greatly consider you to be one of the best of your year, Miss Granger. Would you like to join?"

The Slug Club? The one Harry and Ginny and she had dreaded going to in her sixth year?

Hermione couldn't help to glance at Severus uncertainly, but his eyes were hopeful. It  _would_  be useful, and it meant perhaps spending more time with Severus which meant more of a chance to prevent him from becoming something he would later regret.

"It would be an honor, sir," replied Hermione with a smile, and Slughorn looked positively thrilled.

"Excellent! I shall inform you of the first meeting of the year. Look for my owl!" With that, the old potions professor hobbled away. Briefly he turned and said, "Oh, and you two are free to go since you've finished your assignment. Have a nice evening."

"Thank you professor," Severus and Hermione said in unison. Immediately Hermione gathered her books and stuffed them in her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, and quickly made for the exit.

"Wait, Hermione," Severus protested, hastily grabbing his things to catch up with her. She walked speedily down the corridor as he trailed after her.

"Sorry, I just don't want to be late for my next class," she answered.

"You don't have a next class, Hermione. The only thing left is dinner and then bed." Snape quickly caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

"Seriously, what is with you today? You barely said two words to me all day." His face darkened. "Was it Black again? I heard what happened at Hogsmeade."

Hermione closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. It had been two weeks since the incident, but the moment she told Severus he had grown an even more intense hatred for Sirius than she thought possible.

"No, Severus, it was not Sirius."

"Then what was it?" Severus said exasperatedly.

She looked at him tiredly. "It's been a long day. I'd like to just go to bed."

He was about to respond when suddenly he closed his mouth. "I see then." He looked at her with thinly veiled disdain. "It seems they've finally gotten to you."

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"Am I too shabby to be your friend now? Have you finally reached the common conclusion that I am not worthy of your time?" His voice dripped with disgust. "Potter and Black must be so proud."

Her eyes grew large for a moment before they narrowed. He thought that she was convinced not to be his friend anymore? And because of what, Sirius and James?

"You're just like the rest of them. Snobbish and dull."

Unchecked fury began building up inside of her and she stopped walking, whirling around on Severus and throwing her bag of books on the floor. She tilted her head up angrily at him and said without thinking, "You know what's not worthy of my time Severus? You want to know?"

"Enlighten me," he sneered.

She gritted her teeth and said, "People who hang others upside down alone in the Forbidden Forest. People who use Occlumency on fifteen-year-olds to get what they want. People who would rather prance around with the kind of crowd that murdered my parents."

The reaction was immediate. Severus stilled, the mocking leer wiped off his face. His eyes widened before he softly said, "How…"

"I was on my way back from a Care of Magical Creatures lesson when I saw you." She looked at him coldly. "What you did was disgusting. What was even more disgusting was why you were there with them."

Severus shook his head. "No, you don't know them Hermione," he placated, "They were testing me, they're my friends—"

"Friends? Friends don't do that, Severus! And I know what I saw, and they're  _exactly_  the kind of people that you're going to get yourself in trouble with, even if it was you who did the hurting this time!"

He was about to object when she growled and grabbed the front of his robes. At the moment she was not thinking of fixing the past, of making sure everything went according to plan. The only thought in her head was saving the person who had become her friend; it would kill her inside to see someone so genuinely kind as Severus Snape to become the embittered, cruel, recluse she had grown up learning potions from. She did not want his demise, did not want him to go down a path that he would regret for the rest of his life.

"Don't do this, Severus," she pleaded softly. Her hands were fisted deeply into his robes as she clung to him desperately, bringing him closer to her until they were inches apart. "You think I don't know, that I don't understand, but I _do_. You have no idea what I've seen…what I know…" She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing painful thoughts from her head.

Severus hesitantly brought his hands to enclose around hers. "It was nothing," he said gently, his face stricken at her sudden words and actions. "I'm sorry I upset you. We're just fooling around, Hermione. You're looking too much into this."

She shook her head, her eyes still closed. "That's the thing," she whispered. "It won't be like that for long."

Slowly she released her iron grasp on his robes, but Severus did not release her hands. He held them lightly, peering into her eyes unsurely.

Hermione was hit with a wave of sadness. It didn't matter what she said to him; it was difficult to change someone when they had already been on a path for a long time. Inside she knew his loyalties in the end would be in the right place…but she would do everything,  _everything_ , to keep him from walking further along a path that would lead to a tragic end. She had to.

"Am I your friend, Severus?"

He cracked a small smile. "Of course you are," he said softly.

"You don't even know me. Not really."

He glanced down, his expression unreadable. "Sometimes…it doesn't matter." He looked up at her with a light expression. "You remind me of Lily sometimes. It's very subtle, but it's there. This…kindness. For anybody, unreservedly." He looked at her sincerely. "I would hate myself if I did something to ruin that."

Hermione looked at him sadly and gripped his hands tightly, before letting go of all reservations and throwing her arms around his neck and pressing against him almost in desperation. Severus hesitantly lifted his arms and wrapped them around her waist. "I don't think I could hate you, Severus. No matter how mad I get…I could never truly hate you." Hermione pulled back a little and looked up at him. "That doesn't mean Lily will be as forgiving."

She let go of him and slowly shuffled over to where her bag was thrown. Leaning down to grasp it, she slung it over her shoulder and looked at him tiredly. "Just…think of what you're getting into, Severus. Don't let your feelings cloud your judgement."

He watched her retreat down the corridor but made no move this time to follow. Everything that had passed between them just now confused him immensely, and he couldn't help but feel helplessly sad at their exchange. Something was bothering her, and it had to do with more than what happened between them.

His eyes lowered as he recalled the scene in the forest, and how Hermione had been watching without his knowledge. It deeply unsettled him, and her words began ringing in his ears. Shaking his head, he turned towards the end of the corridor and went to the Great Hall for dinner, uneasy thoughts sifting in his head.

**xxx**

Halloween night was unlike any other at Hogwarts, at least not in Hermione's experience. Hermione jumped a step along a staircase to avoid sinking into one and getting stuck, wondering what tricks she would encounter today that she hadn't already. So far she had dodged an onslaught of bats upon waking up in the morning, a suit of armor had tried chasing her down the dungeons, and Peeves had finally made his appearance and pelted eggs at the first years, where Hermione was unfortunate enough to be mixed in with at the time. She looked down the front of her robes sadly as she tried removing most of the damage magically, but knew the robe would never be the same.

Luckily she had dodged the worst of the pranks, and she had no doubt that half of them were set up by the mischievous quartet of tricksters.

Yesterday had drained her to the point of collapsing on her bed without giving the diadem's horrid presence a second thought. She hadn't planned on telling Severus that she'd seen him in the forest, but then she realized there was no point in keeping it hidden. Some things had to be revealed, and if Hermione tried living the rest of her life bottling up things inside of her, eventually she would explode worse than ever before.

She did not know for certain if her words had any impact on the young potions proficient, but she could only hope that he at least considered her warning.

"Please tell me your expression will not remain this sour for the rest of today," a chipper voice said behind her. She smiled at James who fell in step next to her. "Big day today," he grinned. "All the masters of manipulation and deviancy will be roaming around tonight. I'd be careful if I were you."

"That must mean something coming from you," Hermione raised a brow.

"Of course. I'm the cleverest wizard of our year."

"I think you've got the wrong adjective down. You probably mean du—"

"Oh don't be a spoilsport, this is no time for name calling," said James airily, waving off Hermione's retort with ease. "You've never had a Hogwarts Halloween before, Herms—"

" _Hermione_ ," she corrected automatically.

"—and let me tell you, they really outdo themselves each year—"

"Truly fascinating, do tell me more—"

"You're late," said McGonagall as the pair entered the classroom. Immediately Hermione froze.

"No, professor I was sure I had ten minutes," she squeaked, checking her watch.

"Have a seat."

Hermione glared at James who threw his hands up in the air in his defense, and walked over to an available seat. Her eyes glanced over to the figure beside her who was, of course, Sirius.

They had not spoken since the Hogsmeade trip, and it wasn't that she was ignoring him but more that she had too much on her mind to think of anything else.

He glanced at her discreetly as she lowered herself in the seat. She noticed this and turned her attention to McGonagall, wondering what thoughts were crossing his mind.

"Today we will be doing something different," said McGonagall promptly. "The lesson will center mostly on methods of concealment without aid of a polyjuice potion. As you already know, a situation may rise where you need to hide your identity fast and effectively. Transfiguring yourself by altering certain features is just as good as any flask of polyjuice, so long as you know the proper methods of doing so."

She looked around the classroom and stopped at Peter. He flinched slightly when she said, "Mr. Pettigrew, come up please."

Peter shot a helpless look at James who was closest, and stood from his seat. McGonagall raised her wand and Peter instantly grimaced.

"Don't look so glum, boy, I'm not going to hex you."

She waved it in the air lightly and said clearly, " _Dissimulo_."

She waved her wand around Peter with a calculating look, and slowly parts of him began to transfigure. His hair went from blond to a light shade of brown, his face grew thinner and his shoulders broadened; a goatee began growing down his face and his eyes went from blue to brown to grey.

After a few moments McGonagall lowered her wand with a satisfied expression. Peter turned towards the classroom and a few eyebrows raised, as well as a shriek of giggles from one side of the classroom. Peter's ears went pink as McGonagall explained, "You have to have the image in your mind when you perform this spell. Think of what you want, concentrate, and cast the spell. These transfigurations usually last between six to seven hours if uninterrupted, but can be easily reverted back with the counterspell."

Hermione smiled as she remembered this lesson. She ended up sporting a rather thick handlebar moustache shamelessly.

"Partner up with the person next to you, and begin."

Hermione's good mood instantly dissipated. She looked over to Sirius, who was mirroring her expression of dread.

"Well, let's get to it then," he muttered and stood from his seat.

Hermione took her wand out of her robe. "Would you like to go first?"

Sirius shrugged. Hermione waited for a definitive answer, but when it didn't come she frowned. "O-kay…I guess I'll start then."

She raised her wand and stared hard at Sirius's face. He had very prominent features, very  _nice_  features if she were honest with herself. She began to smile.

She noticed Sirius stiffen at her sudden smile, and he began, "On second thought, I wouldn't mind going first—"

"Too late, I've already started."

Her wand waved deliberately in the air as she muttered, " _Dissimulo!_ " and concentrated on Sirius's face. The wand lowered down his neck to his torso, and Sirius shifted uncomfortably as he felt the transformations begin.

After a full three minutes, Hermione lowered her wand and was fighting down a grin. "You look great," Hermione managed to say. James, who was standing not too far from them and was partnered with a Hufflepuff girl, burst into raucous laughter.

Sirius scowled. "What the hell did you do to me?" he hissed, looking around for a mirror. By now he had gained the attention of the other students, and James sidled up against Sirius and slung his arm around his waist.

Sirius jumped at the strange contact and glared at his friend in confusion. James smiled handsomely and said, "I can't help myself, Sirius. You just look so damn beautiful, I've forgotten all about Lily."

The other students were both impressed and incredibly amused with Hermione's work, and she was proud that she had managed to pull it off quite nicely.

"What is it?" Sirius asked. He looked to James for an answer who was still chuckling like mad, but all James said was, "Look down."

Sirius followed his gaze down his torso and blanched. "Bloody hell!"

McGonagall came up next to Hermione and observed her handiwork. The witch kept her composure and looked at the now very feminine Sirius Black, who was letting out a line of curses under his breath as he touched his face and hair. "Impressive," said McGonagall finally, with the barest trace of a smile. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Hermione beamed up at the professor and looked back at Sirius. "Happy Halloween."

As much as Hermione detested being the center of attention, McGonagall made sure each student marveled at her creation. Sirius sulked against a desk, having lost the will to fight against the crowds of students around him. One student reached for his chest when Sirius slapped his hand away and growled, "Goddamn it, I may be a boy but you can't just grab whatever you like!"

When he was finally allowed out of the transfiguration, he was glowering at Hermione as if she were the devil incarnate himself.

She looked at him innocently and he scowled. "Don't," he said, and raised his wand. "Or I'll be distracted from my retribution."

His retribution was nothing she hadn't expected; facial hair, bulging muscles, a unibrow, and several other things that ensured her to be the ugliest imposter of a man humanly possible. "Bravo," she muttered as she undid the spell several agonizing minutes later. Class was already over, and most of the students had left by the time Hermione had gathered her things. Striding out of the transfiguration classroom, Hermione headed towards the Great Hall to push the day's troubles away and immerse herself into a very large slice of pumpkin pie.

The Great Hall was glittering with decorations of a multitude of objects; the sky was enchanted black with shimmering stars and lightning. The tables were already filled with students, and Hermione saw rows upon rows of the feast already lined up and brimming with food.

Finding a seat near the edge of the table, she finally caught her breath and stretched. Before she could immerse herself completely in the much-missed solitude, Lily plopped down next to her.

"Happy Halloween!" she said cheerfully.

Hermione sighed and replied, "Let's hope so."

"What's wrong?"

Hermione frowned. "…Nothing at all, actually. Perhaps I'm just waiting for the ball to drop." Another figure sat down in front of them. "Hello James," she greeted.

"Evening, Hermione; might I add that you look absolutely stunning today, Lily? The sweater really does well with your eyes, and your hair for that matter; actually everything you wear looks perfect on you—"

"Don't you have other friends to talk to?" Lily snapped.

"Why would I talk to them when I could spend the rest of the night talking with you?"

Lily blinked a few times before groaning and looking away helplessly.

"Are we sitting at the end of the table now?" Peter's voice said as he sat down next to James.

"Looks like it," said Remus.

"Where's Sirius?" asked Lily.

"Serving detention, as usual," replied Remus. "Even on Halloween night, thanks to McGonagall. Working with Filch on the third floor."

All five of them shuddered and began piling their plates with food. Hermione had to admit, it was quite a nice dinner, and it was not just because of the spectacular food. For the first time she was not reminded painfully of sitting at this very table eating the feast with Parvati and Lavender and Harry and Ron; she didn't look at James and Lily with sadness knowing that it was on Halloween that their lives were taken away from them; her mind was far from these foreboding thoughts. They did drift casually to Sirius, and she realized the initial irritation she held for him had faded significantly. Yes, she had no plans of involving herself with him any more than just the smallest bit of friendship at this point, but it was better than nothing. Perhaps in the next few years she could think about relationships, when she had destroyed at least a horcrux and found a few more.

_The horcrux..._ Hermione bit her lip. She was no closer to findini a way to destroy it than the day she found the diadem. It was worrying her—what was the benefit of collecting all the horcruxes if she had no means to destroy them?

Hermione gathered a few cakes and treats from the table and piled it onto a plate, then took a tissue and covered it. Standing up, she carefully grabbed the plated and bid the group of Gryffindors goodbye.

"Where are you going?" asked Peter.

"I'm pretty tired. I think I'll head to bed with some of this food."

They nodded in assent and Hermione walked out of the Great Hall with gusto, but as she continued it began to shrink little by little. Thoughts flying through her head, Hermione did not notice someone walking in her direction until she collided hard into him and stumbled backwards, the plate falling tragically to the floor.

A hand caught her arm and pulled her upright, landing her straight against the figure's chest.

She looked up to apologize but the words lodged in her throat. Hermione was staring straight into a pair of black-rimmed eyes and wild hair tied with a rubber band. A rugged sort of face looked down at her and gave her a raised eyebrow.

"Hello beautiful."


	7. The Runaway

If Hermione was given the chance, she would probably think he was stunning. And not in the typical 'ruggedly handsome' stunning—no, Sirius pretty much had that department covered—but in the eccentric, elusive, uncertain way that made you wonder if he would smile while breaking your neck.

But considering she was inside a school at the moment, she did not need to worry about snapped vertebrae.

Still, she could not prevent the immediate spike of apprehension upon meeting him. His robes and loosely slung green and silver tie indicated that he was a Slytherin. The smirk on his face told her that she would not be leaving any time soon.

Hermione glanced down at the plate that had fallen to an untimely death, scattering bits of food all around them. "You made me drop my plate," she stated.

A smile curled his lips and he tilted his head, but said nothing. He continued to stare at her until Hermione glanced away and took out her wand. She repaired the broken plate, then levitated the scraps of food back onto it. A quick  _scourgify_  cleaned the mess, and within seconds the plate was back in her hand and a scowl on her face. "The least you can do is bring this back to the Great Hall."

The boy's smile widened and took a step towards her. Hermione held her ground, even as he leaned in towards her. She felt his breath, which smelled like mint, as he said softly, "You smell nice. Perfume?"

Hermione backed away with a glare. "Forget it. I'll take the plate myself. Go find someone else to taunt."

She stopped when he grabbed her arm and spun her back around. She nearly lost balance of the plate and glared at him even more as he held on to her. "Now hold on just a minute," he sounded a little offended, "I'm not done yet."

"Well I am," she said plaintively. "Let me go or I'll drop this all on you."

His eyes flickered to the plate and for a second she thought he would release her. He raised his eyes back to hers and she felt the weight of the plate vanish and she gave a startled intake of breath. She had not noticed him taking out his wand, but evidently he had used it and sent it spiraling down the hallway in the direction of the Great Hall.

He gave her a smile and Hermione frowned. "What on earth do you want?" she hissed.

He smiled wide. "A bit of fun."

"Scabior?"

A voice broke the silence and she turned to see Regulus giving them a curious look. "You were supposed to meet me ten minutes ago."

"I got distracted," the boy she assumed was called Scabior said with a shrug. "And I'd  _like_  to get to know this bird here, so  _if_  you don't mind," he made a shooing gesture with an annoyed flick of his wrist, and then reverted his attention back to Hermione.

Hermione stepped back and wrenched herself out of his grasp. "I don't think so." She gave him a calculating look before adding, "Go find someone else to bother."

"Not bloody likely," he muttered as he took a step forward, and Hermione found his persistence almost comical as she gripped her wand tightly.

Regulus shot Scabior a dark look. "Avery was asking for you."

"Tha' git is always asking for me," Scabior snapped, eyes not wavering from her. She noticed that his accent got thicker when he was speaking fast, in an agitated manner. "I'm done following 'im around."

"I don't think you quite understand. He's  _asking_  for you."

That made him pause, and for once the staring contest between him and Hermione wavered as he shot an annoyed glance at Regulus.

Making a noise of disappointment with an angry scowl, Scabior glared at Regulus sulkily. "If he's not, I'll 'ex your pretty little eyebrows off."

Regulus raised one, perhaps just to annoy him further, and Scabior began storming back to the Great Hall. When he was passing Hermione he paused, leaning down a little as he pinned her with his unmoving, kohl-rimmed eyes.

"I'll be seeing  _you_  soon, sweetness."

He left, leaving Regulus and Hermione in an awkward wake. She no longer had food to send up to Sirius, and they were both already at a strange standstill so her presence was probably unwanted regardless.

"You look a bit peaky," Regulus observed. "Cold?"

"Annoyed mostly," she said tersely. It struck her as odd that the people she should have been looking for kept finding  _her_  instead. It was unsettling. "Another friend of yours?"

"Could you tell by his natural grace and charm?"

Hermione frowned. "I thought Slytherins were supposed to hate Gryffindors."

"We do."

"Then why has each one been a little  _too_  friendly with me?" Her eyes wandered to where Scabior had retreated to down the hall and her frown deepened.

He shrugged. "You're not really a Gryffindor."

"Excuse me?"

Regulus smiled and sauntered over to her until his head was very near her own. His mouth opened to speak but he paused, his eyes slowly wandering up, up, until they were looking past the top of her head. A smile lit his face like the switch of a light bulb.

Hermione didn't even have to look to guess who Regulus was grinning at.

She didn't bother saying anything; Sirius was already in a hostile mood and being spotted, once again, with a hated sibling did little to ease the tension between Hermione and Sirius.

So when he continued down the steps and was passing them, Hermione turned her head to glance at him but said nothing.

Regulus withheld any flamboyant remarks that Hermione was certain were cooking in his Slytherin little head. He did however, flash a toothy grin and nod when Sirius's eyes briefly flickered to his, and much to Hermione's amusement, mirrored his actions.

Once Sirius was a good few feet away and still within earshot, Regulus said to Hermione loudly, "So, where were we? Right, you may stop by my dormitory any time, just make sure not to make too much noise when sneaking out—"

Hermione mouth dropped and saw Sirius stiffen in the background. Her eyes snapped back to Regulus, who was watching her smugly.

Not feeling it was worth the effort to pull out her wand and hex him, Hermione simply glared and gave him a swift kick in the shin.

The smug look disappeared instantly, and Regulus groaned in pain as he reached down to rub the front of his leg. "What are you, four?" she snapped. "Don't tempt me to do worse."

"As if you could," Regulus sneered, still grimacing.

Hermione fisted her hands into tight balls and glanced behind him. Sirius was near the entrance of the Great Hall now, his hand reaching for the knob.

_It's now or never_. She sidestepped Regulus and tried of thinking of things that could temporarily fix the damaged friendship between her and Sirius.

"And there it is," Regulus said as he gritted his teeth. He straightened his back, the worst of the pain in his leg gone. "But you'll never find out what you want to know about me that way."

Hermione paused. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "And what is it that you think I want to know?"

Regulus smiled but did not reply. Hermione glanced up and saw Sirius disappear behind the double doors. When she looked back at Regulus, she saw him reach inside his robes and slowly pull out a necklace, the very same one she saw him with at the Black Lake.

"I know you're curious," he said softly. "I see it in your eyes every time I see you."

Hermione blinked. "You've got to be joking."

Regulus looked at her shrewdly. "No? Then why didn't you report me in to Dumbledore? You acknowledged that this isn't ordinary magic I'm using. You saw what happened to me at the lake. And yet…" he moved closer, the necklace dangling dangerously in his hands. "You kept quiet."

_Because I need you to be on my side!_  Hermione thought frustratedly. Obviously turning him in to the headmaster would ruin any shred friendship between them. But if she were honest with herself, Hermione didn't see a friendship between them anytime soon. The way he behaved around her (and unfortunately, when both she and Sirius were present as well) made her want to turn the other way if they crossed paths. He riled her up and she always let her guard down and let him ruffle her feathers, as he was now.

It was then, however, as her eyes followed the swishing movement of the necklace, that Hermione made a choice.

The tension in her body dissipated; her eyes wandered up to Regulus's face as she took a step forward that brought her close enough to touch the necklace by moving just an inch. As their eyes locked, Hermione said quietly, "Tell me."

The corner of his mouth quirked. "Why?" he asked with a note of haughtiness.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Because clearly you want to tell me, or else we wouldn't still be here."

Regulus's face tightened a little at her statement. When he didn't respond immediately, Hermione stepped back to her original post, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "When you're ready to tell me, you know where to find me."

"Actually no, I don't," Regulus said finally, with a mildly annoyed tone.

At this Hermione smiled. "You're a Slytherin, aren't you? You'll figure it out."

**xxx**

"Why must you leave?"

Madam Pince shot Severus a dirty look at the volume of his question, and Snape immediately dropped his gaze and lowered his head in mock obedience. Hermione rolled her eyes and dipped her quill in the ink bottle, carefully tapping off the excess before resuming writing her last Transfiguration essay of the month.

"I can't refuse to visit my…the Potters during my first Christmas holidays," Hermione chided as she scribbled quickly on the parchment. "They've been very kind to me, and they really want me to come so…will you stop making that noise?"

Severus scoffed again, the same sound he'd been making in the entire duration of their conversation for the past ten minutes.

"Honestly," said Severus with an annoyed tone, "you will  _definitely_  not be missing anything if you choose to stay at Hogwarts."

"Just because you've decided to stay doesn't mean I have to," replied Hermione in a clipped voice. "Isn't anyone else you know staying for the break?"

Severus made a noise that was either mocking or irritated, Hermione could not tell by this point. As her eyes roved over the last sentence she had written, Hermione carefully placed the quill on the table and sighed, glancing over at the parchment in satisfaction.

"And that's it," said Hermione cheerfully, quickly screwing the ink bottle closed and packing away her books. She glanced at Severus, who was staring off into the distance with a deep frown and a scowl digging dangerously low on his forehead.

Sighing again, Hermione leaned forward in her chair. "It's not too late to change your mind about going home or not," Hermione reminded. "You should think about it. Me, you, and Lily could rendezvous sometime over the next few weeks. It'll be fun."

Severus looked at her with a dark and sullen expression, eyes glowering at her. "I'd rather not," he said softly, the faintest trace of disgust layered in his voice. "You will quickly learn that not all of us have charming 'Mr. and Mrs. Potter's to greet us at home."

Ah, yes. The vague and mysterious family background of Severus Snape, of which Hermione only had a very basic knowledge about. By the way he spoke of his parents and his home, Hermione was almost certain that his home life was akin to Harry's, perhaps even worse. She recalled how adversely Harry would speak of the Durselys and his horrible cousin Dudley.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Hermione inquired.

"No." Snape sneered, "And I wouldn't want them. More baggage to take care of."

Hermione frowned. "That's a very harsh way of looking at it," she said. "I would love to have an older or younger sibling. It would've made things less…lonely."

Snape watched her curiously as Hermione got lost in pensive thoughts. "You might have even liked it." she noted after some time.

"I'm perfectly fine as is," said Severus coldly. The sharpness of his words seemed to snap Hermione from her thoughts, for she had spoken without even really thinking.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione honestly. "I was just saying whatever came in my head."

Severus looked away and stared off into the distance, contemplating very deeply about something which Hermione wished she could understand.

"Only you would be working hard on the day of departure," a voice interrupted both Hermione and Severus's thoughts. They glanced up to see Remus Lupin's friendly smile beating down on them as he approached the desk they were sitting at.

"Hello, Remus," said Hermione kindly. "I don't think it's comely to waste time when I can easily finish everything now and relax all through winter," she smiled. It was a tradition Hermione had kept since her first year at Hogwarts. "And besides," she added, "the train doesn't leave until two, and it's only eleven-thirty."

"I suppose you're right," Remus agreed, smiling.

"Is there a reason you are here, Lupin, or do you often cut in other people's conversations?" came Snape's silky retort.

Lupin blinked, and shifted his arm to hold out a very dusty and massive book. "I came to put this back," he said slowly. "I did not realize I needed a reason to speak with a friend."

Severus looked at him darkly. Remus let out a little breath and gave Hermione a forced smile. "I'll see you around."

When Remus disappeared behind a far away bookshelf, Hermione rounded on Severus. "Why must you always be that way?"

"Be what way?"

"So horrible to him, to everyone! He's been nothing but kind to you these past few months, but you shove it all back in his face," said Hermione indignantly.

Fury washed on his face. "I have no reason to show kindness to those who remained silent upon the wrongs done to me," Severus hissed. "He may be kind words and polite smiles, but not  _once_  has he told off Black and Potter for their childish pranks played on me these past five years. The fact he is even their friend makes me sick, and only further shows he has tactless character."

"And I?" Severus scowled at her words, staring at her with glazed eyes. "I am their friend—most of them, anyway," she corrected, as she was still not on speaking terms with Sirius. "I am living with, and really the  _stepsister_  of, your hated 'Potter'. So what of me?"

"What of you," sneered Severus.

Hermione shook her head. "You need to start remembering that they are all  _fifteen_ ," she said emphatically. "They—and this includes you—will not do the right thing every time; half of them are afraid to speak up, in fear of losing the only friendship they have. They're—we're—young, Severus! You can't expect us to behave otherwise, or we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Severus scowled and looked away, his eyes blazoned with checked anger that she knew he was withholding from her.

"Other than his friendship and his—his silence," she started hesitantly, "has he ever been cruel to you?"

He did not answer immediately. He simply glowered in his chair, looking away from her, and Hermione could almost feel the waves of blind hatred coming off his body.

She nearly gave up. All thoughts halted, however, when she heard him speak, so softly and so unwillingly, as if the word were being torn out from his mouth, " _No_."

He was looking at her as if he hated the very sight of her, but in the depths of his eyes she saw a small, wavering spark of admission. Hermione replied quietly, "Then for Merlin's sake, Severus. Give him the benefit of the doubt."

She watched his lips curl as he snarled just as quietly, "Well aren't you just the bloodiest  _Gryffindor_  in the school."

What would have passed Hermione's lips at Severus's remark remained a mystery, for at that precise moment Remus was walking back towards them, the library book he had brought with him now safely returned to its respective bookshelf.

"I'll see you at the station, Hermione," he bid her goodbye, pausing a little at the table she was sitting at. Remus's eyes flickered to Severus, who was firmly avoiding his gaze, and Remus smiled tightly. "Goodbye, Severus."

He did not so much as flinch at the words spoken to him, and Hermione glanced between the two boys with unveiled ire. She kicked her foot out and hit Severus's leg square on the shin, causing him to wince and let out a small groan, shooting Hermione a menacing glare that would have caused even Peeves to cower.

At Hermione's no-nonsense glare, Severus looked up at the young Marauder with contempt. "Right," grimaced Severus, the word coming out with great diffuculty.

She supposed it was too soon to expect any more kindness than that.

Remus smiled mildly and departed. The tension in the air, while still lingering, was significantly less than it was five minutes ago. Hermione let out a breath and stretched in her seat, smiling at Severus widely. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Severus did not bother even responding. Grabbing his bag, he sidled a glance at her and said coldly, "Do try to stay alive while you're on holiday. The Potters are known for their  _beasts_."

Hermione blinked a few times, wondering what in the world he could have meant.

**xxx**

Hermione did not dislike very many things. In fact if she thought about it, she considered herself an amiable person to be around—at least, when she was not studying her brains out during final exam week (for she was well-known for scaring any person within ten yards of her; case and point Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Lavender, Parvati…).

No, Hermione liked to look at a difficulty as a challenge, something to be overcome. And for someone thrown twenty years in the past, trying to destroy horcruxes and prevent Death Eaters from becoming Death Eaters, one would think sitting for a few hours on a magical train would be a piece of pumpkin pasty.

Due to complicated circumstances ("That's a good one," Lily snorted when Hermione tried explaining it to her), Hermione was no longer sitting with James this trip, for James was inevitably and most obviously attached at the hip to a certain dark and brooding pureblood who was not on good terms with her at the moment. She recalled the sympathetic shrugs and looks both Lupin and Peter had given her ("I'll stop by and have a chat when the trolley comes around," Peter promised before entering his compartment), and the knowing but indifferent looks her new compartment members gave her when she sat with Lily and her circle of friends on the train.

She could not say she disliked sitting with these girls, because they were so very pleasant and sweet and she already had classes with all of them so there was no strange awkward air about them; no, she simply disliked this situation. Had Hermione been more prudent, she would have made more friends than Lily and Severus, for in reality it was just them who had accepted her readily. The real shocker was Severus though; never in her wildest dreams did she ever,  _ever_  imagine that her old potions master would become one of her closest friends.

Lily was too good to Hermione, and it made her wonder if she was so open with her love and friendship to anyone. And to some extent she was—she seemed to be good friends with nearly everyone in the school (even some Slytherins, to Hermione's amusement as well as Lily's) and was such good fun to be around that it was no wonder so many students gravitated towards her like a magnet.

The only time Hermione noticed she was not so magnanimous was whenever James or Sirius—well, more James, really—would cross her path. And who could blame her? He acted like a dungbeetle in front of her ninety-nine percent of the time. Hopefully during this break at the Potters' she could knock some sense into him.

But now she digressed. No, what was very troublesome was that in reality, Severus was still at Hogwarts, Lily was having too jolly of a time with these girls, and the other students had their own friends, and Sirius hated her, and James was James, and Remus and Peter would always stick with Sirius and James, and Hermione was feeling so very terribly lonely, sitting in these same seats that she had sat in for six years with the two people in her life that meant the world to her, but she could never be their friend again.

And it was this thought that made her think of Voldemort, and she wished she had not listened to Dumbledore's advice by turning the Time-Turner three times and going back to 1975. She wished she had turned it three more, and landed herself in 1940 where she could throttle that deceitful boy who went by the name of Tom Riddle.

But that would have made her even lonelier, wouldn't it? For she wouldn't be able to see her friends for another forty years.

As these thoughts were flying through her head, a boy sauntered past the window of her compartment, whom she recognized as a Slytherin.

And that brought her thoughts to a sharp turn.

It took a long time for Hermione to finally realize that she had not been 'accidentally' bumping into flocks of Slytherins throughout the year; if she thought hard enough, it would seem almost convenient, running in to each other every so often. She had yet to meet the Slytherin's fearsome leader, Avery, but she had met nearly everybody else by some misdemeanor or other.

Yes, they were not all cheerful introductions. The worst so far  _had_  to be Regulus, however. Finding him nearly drowned in the Black Lake only to discover she had attempted resuscitation for naught, and that Regulus had taken pleasure in her discomfort at having pressed her lips to his (here Hermione shuddered and had to close her eyes, for reliving the scene in her mind was almost as bad as the experience itself) certainly took the cake. But the others these past two months came very close.

Meeting Mulciber the week before the departure for holiday break had brought her dangerously close to meeting Avery; something she was not too keen on doing yet. However, from what she judged, Mulciber was just as terrible to behold, especially when strolling down Hogwarts grounds.

He had played the Slytherin card quite well by mocking her, her lineage, her family; everything Malfoy had desensitized her from for quite some time. It was all dandy until he took out his wand.

Now, being basically a seventh year in her  _normal_  time, dueling and defending herself against a fifth year was not some grand feat. However, Hermione realized that though she may be an expert duelist, her iron concentration had finally cracked—just as she was about disarm Mulciber and part on clean though unfriendly terms, her eyes saw a flash of black in the topmost corner of her eye. And for a second—a  _fraction_  of a second—she glanced up, eyes breaking away from Slytherin before her, and saw the passing body of Sirius up high in Hogwarts, where windows were aligned every few feet. He was smiling, a smile she did not get to see when she very often anymore—and that was precisely when she was knocked off her feet.

"Looks like mudbloods really aren't witches after all," Mulciber sniggered, leaning over her with his wand pointed at her nose.

Hermione rolled her eyes, the image of Sirius's walking figure completely erased from her mind as she mentally kicked herself for getting distracted.

Just as she was going to hex the smile off his face, a rough voice entered the picture.

"Wot the 'ell are you doin', Mulciber?"

Scabior was scowling deeply at the offender. Hermione noticed with some fascination that his eyes wore eyeliner again, and his hair was a wild mane tied back haphazardly to keep it out of the way. He reminded of her the muggle rock stars she had pinned up posters of in her old bedroom. All that was missing was the leather jacket.

"Showing the mudblood her place," he replied derisively, and Hermione nearly groaned at the lack of creativity. Sensing a distraction, she quickly vaulted to her feet and adjusted the grip on her wand firmly.

"I think she'll show you yours first," Scabior said with a hint of a smile, noticing full well that Hermione was now standing. Mulciber, however, did not.

"Siding with a Gryffindor mudblood now, are you, Scabior? Can't imagine what Avery would think of that."

Scabior wore a disgusted expression and spat, "Avery can suck my—"

"Boys, boys," Hermione interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "Can't we all just talk this through nicely?"

Mulciber was visibly shocked that Hermione was now armed and standing, perhaps even more shocked because she had not stunned him yet.

However he seemed to move past it easily, for his face twisted in a nasty snarl and he lifted his wand.

Hermione lazily flicked her hand and Mulciber's wand went flying. Catching it easily, she smiled at him as she slowly twirled it in her hand.

"You—you—" Mulciber an image of absolute consternation and fury, his face already turning colors. All the while Scabior had been watching intently, but the moment Hermione smiled at Mulciber tauntingly he began roaring in laughter.

"Hex the dumb bint, you prat!" Mulciber screamed at his fellow Slytherin, but Scabior simply continued to laugh.

Sensing he would be getting no help, he rounded on Hermione. "You'll pay for this, filthy—"

"You really might want to choose your words wisely," Hermione reminded, rolling his wand between her fingers.

Mulciber frowned. "You snap that and you're expelled," he said viciously, and Hermione had to give him merit for actually something other than how to bully students.

"That is true. I guess I'll have to give it back to you, then."

Instead of handing it over, however, she flicked her wand again and Mulciber's wand zoomed out of her hand and in the air, spinning madly towards the castle.

"It's gone in the dungeons," said Hermione boredly. "Shouldn't take you too long to find it. Unless, of course, another student finds it first."

Mulciber glared at her in pure hatred and started towards the castle. "You best hope Avery doesn't meet you," he threatened, "for there will be pure  _hell_ to pay for this."

As Mulciber darted to the castle doors, becoming nothing more than a blur in the distance, Hermione sighed. She really should have not bothered with the squabble, but the Slytherin had given her no choice. He was, after all, probably going to do some very unpleasant things to her nose with his wand when he had knocked her off her feet, and remembering the fiasco with Draco Malfoy and the horrible spell that had hit her two front teeth, she decided to evade Mulciber completely.

"That was impressive for a transfer student," Scabior noted, running a rough hand through his wild hair. Hermione was startled by the sound of his voice, having forgotten he was still there.

"Yes," said Hermione in a flustered voice, looking away. "Well…good day."

He was not fazed by her quick dismissal; in fact, he sidled along next to her with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Say, where did you transfer from, again? The rumor mill is not always so reliable—"

"I'm not sure why it matters."

"It doesn't, not really, it's just back there—"

Hermione stopped walking and looked up at him. He was smiling good-naturedly, and Hermione's curiosity piqued at his seeming disregard of the House hatred.

"I really don't like to talk about my past." The smile was wearing down a bit on his face, and his expression was starting to change. She quickly looked away, "Now if you excuse me, please."

Hermione continued to walk, but his next words chilled her to the bone.

"So fifth-year mudbloods know 'ow to do nonverbal spells?"

... _Fuck_.

Chastising herself was an understatement. No curses, no self-depreciating words could sum up the amount of dung Hermione felt at that moment.

But of course, Scabior was right. She  _had_  used nonverbal spells unintentionally when she had disarmed Mulciber. He had been too busy being angry that a muggleborn had beat him to realize her mistake, but Scabior had not. He saw it all, and now she had to face the consequences.

Hermione remembered making this same mistake on the carriage ride to Hogwarts, where the Marauders had witnessed her heal her palms after the horrid aftershocks of the Cruciatus curse she was inflicted by (an occurrence that has not happened since then, thank Merlin), but fortunately for her they never breached the subject again.

Hermione took a shuddering breath and turned around to face him. Looking up at him with contempt, she said, "What do you want?"

"Now we're talking," Scabior grinned cheerfully. "I'm assuming you don't want to discuss the spell-thing, then?"

Her silence was answer enough, for he smiled even wider. "Excellent. This is going to be lovely."

"What do you want?" Hermione repeated.

Scabior's eyes turned predatory. "I'll tell you when the time comes." Blinking, his expression relaxed and he smiled disarmingly again. "Well, don' want to be late for class. I'll see you 'round."

After his departure, Hermione had noticed more and more stares thrown her direction from the Slytherin table the week following up to holiday break. A few words thrown here and there as she walked down the hallways, a few run-ins with some boys she remembered seeing in the forbidden forest when Severus had jinxed the would-be Death Eaters.

And alas, here she was. Sitting on the train home next to Lily and her friends, the horcrux diadem sitting at the bottom of her trunk, and Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus seated in the compartment across from hers, and the feeling of oppressive loneliness returned with a vengeance.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione looked up, startled. They were all staring at her.

"Y-yes," said Hermione quickly. "Must've dozed off or something."

They seemed unconvinced, so Hermione stood up and stretched. "I think I'll go take a walk to the lavatory."

"Don't take too long," said Lily. "We've still got plenty of things to talk about and it's no fun if you're missing out."

"I won't."

Hermione slid the door open and slipped outside quietly.

Quickly making her way to the loo, Hermione was relieved that it was not occupied. Locking the door behind her, Hermione stared back at her reflection and sighed.

Perhaps she should have listened to Severus. Perhaps it would have been wiser to stay at Hogwarts. Perhaps, perhaps…

But there was no time for 'perhaps' and maybe's. That was not her duty to think of. There was now, and that was all.

A fierce knock on the door broke her from her thoughts. Running her fingers through her hair quickly in an attempt to tame the mane, Hermione adjusted her clothes and opened the door.

It was a short second year Ravenclaw girl, who looked about ready to explode so Hermione quickly moved aside to let her through. Hermione noticed a small line had formed outside the bathroom. Merlin, how long had she been in there?

"We really should stop meeting like this."

Hermione glanced at the first person in line and for once it was not some Slytherin sleeze trying to hex her to oblivion.

Sirius was leaning against the wall of the train. He looked a little worse for wear, but she knew she looked even worse.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Hermione went along with it crossed her arms.

"I don't know, but we really ought to kick the habit. Bad example for the first years, you know."

"Oh yes, the first years," he agreed wholeheartedly, intrigued but visibly happy that she had decided to follow his lead. His stance became a little less stiff and even lazier, if that was possible. "Can't put crazy ideas in their head."

Hermione tilted her head, trying to think of a response but falling flat. Finally she said, "Sorry, what are we even talking about again?"

"No idea," Sirius said, and they both grinned and Sirius chuckled. Hermione looked away, not trusting herself if she got lost in his eyes as she had so many times this year.

Sirius cleared his throat. "So…going home with James today?"

"I am," she said softly.

They both felt the tension in the air thicken, and she knew that he knew that they were both thinking the same thoughts. How things had become so rough with them, how quickly friendship between them had nearly deteriorated. It was the last thing Hermione had wanted for the two of them…and yet, that seemed to be happening often to her.

Before she could continue in the downward sloping thoughts, Sirius broke the tension. "You'll love it there," he blurted. "I've spent plenty of summers at his house. The Potters definitely know how to have a good time."

"That's good," Hermione smiled. "I'm glad I'll get to spend more time with Charlus and Dorea. They were so very kind to me when I first arrived."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply but at that moment the door to the bathroom opened. Sirius was next in line, so he shot her a glance and then glanced at the door.

It was amazing how a split second could flood the conversation back with unspoken tension.

"Well then," Hermione said finally.

"Yes," Sirius agreed. "I…I'll see you later." He quickly entered the lavatory and closed the door, the lock clicking into place.

And they were back at square one.

Hermione reentered her compartment to find most of the girls either staring idly out the window or dozing off. So much for the scintillating conversation she had "missed out" on.

Remus and Peter had taken turns at visiting her, though it was only once throughout the entire train ride. The conversation seemed a little uncomfortable, and Hermione could not help but feel relieved when it was over. Which was very odd, for she liked them both very much at this point.

While with Remus this realization did not come as a surprise, Peter's was. She had expected to hate him for the crimes he committed in the future, but wasn't this the point of her arriving in this decade? Helping change the past, preventing would-be followers of Voldemort to desist and see the light.

Finally after a copious amount of time, the train began to slow and the students grew even more excited when the train came to a full stop.

Hermione left her compartment and headed to the front of the train. She struggled a bit with her trunk, and slowly she stepped off the train and onto the platform. The chilly December air hit her immediately, and she ducked her head to avoid the frosty wind and wheeled her trunk behind her.

She glanced around, wondering where the Potters were. She supposed she ought to wait for James to come off the train so that they could find them together, so she stood silently and waited.

She watched student after student get off, and some recognized her and bid her a happy Christmas.

A boy stepped onto the platform, and another boy, and another, all whom she wished she did not have to see.  _Of course they'd come out of_ this _door,_  Hermione thought with irritation.

The Slytherins who had been taunting her the past week or so sniggered when they saw her, and some took a few jibes at her. Ignoring them, she stared defiantly in the distance and wondered where on earth James and his parents were. t was time for her to actively look for them.

She began to walk away when a voice shouted, "Leaving already, Granger? But we've only just started!"

"Idiots," she muttered under her breath, rolling her trunk behind her furiously.

"Not all of us," a voice said in her ear, and Hermione jumped, instinctively whipping out her wand. "Easy," said Regulus. "I just came to remind you of the deal we made."

"Deal?" Hermione shook her head. "What deal did we ever make?"

"You told me to come and find you, and I did," said Regulus as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And I did."

"Well, now is not the best time," said Hermione irritatedly. She was tired of all this. At this point, all she wanted was to go home with the Potters, curl on her bed, and finally get a good night's sleep. And while she did want to get to know Regulus more, she just could not understand why Regulus himself was pursuing this so much. Surely she did not seem  _that_  desperate to know about his damn necklace? And even so, why did he want to tell her? She knew Regulus was not oblivious. He knew she was connected to his older brother at some vague level. What was his motive?

"Obviously," Regulus snapped. "But now I know where to find you. Keep a lookout for an owl."

"What?"

"Happy holidays," he dismissed her confusion and abruptly turned around and walked away.

"There you are," she heard James from behind. She turned to see James jogging towards her with an exasperated expression. "We've been looking for you for ages! Come one, Mum and Dad are waiting."

"I couldn't find you either," said Hermione, "it's not like I've been standing like a dunce wishing for you to arrive."

"Geez, calm down," James raised hands as if to back off. "What's got your wand in a knot?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "It's just been a very strange day."

James nodded understandingly, and perhaps on some level he did. "Well, cheer up now. You don't want Mum to see that sullen expression."

"Have the others left already?" Hermione inquired, referring to Remus, Peter, and Sirius.

"Oh yes, they've gone with their families," he said mildly. "Don't worry though, you'll get to meet them all soon."

"Why?"

"You don't know?" Hermione shook her head. A devious expression spread on his face, and he replied, "Well, no point ruining the fun now."

"What fun?"

"You'll find over the next few days. Don't fret, Hermy; all will reveal itself over due time."

"For Merlin's sake, it's  _Hermione_ ," she corrected for the umpteenth time, but it fell to deaf ears. Sighing, she strolled forward and followed James's lead.

Finally after an eternity of walking they spotted Mr. and Mrs. Potter, waiting and smiling anxiously as James and Hermione approached.

Within seconds Hermione saw Dorea Potter's ear-splitting grin and her arms spread wide open as she launched herself at Hermione.

"Oh, my dear girl! We're so glad you decided to come!" she squealed, squeezing Hermione's torso until she began having difficulty to breathe, much less have any circulation left in her arms.

"So," said Charlus as his wife fawned over Hermione unwaveringly, "are you two hungry?"

**xxx**

When the four arrived at Godric's Hollow, it was well past nine o'clock, for the Potters had decided to take James and Hermione to a muggle restaurant. It was amusing to see Mr. Potter ("Darling,  _do_  call me Charlus, I feel like my father when you call me Mr. Potter," Charlus had said with a grimace) handle muggle money, much less see the muggle way of preparing food and serving. It had been Dorea's idea, for she felt Hermione would feel a little more comfortable dining the muggle way.

Presently, Hermione was curled up on a very comfortable sofa in the living room, her head resting against the cushioned armrest as her eyes stared at the ceiling. Her body felt drained, as if all the energy sapped out of her the moment she stepped out of Hogwarts.

The room, similar to the rest of James's house, was very large and comfortable. Across from her sofa was an oval pinewood coffee table, and across that was another sofa that James was currently occupying. He was stretched lazily across it, one hand holding a copy of the Daily Prophet and the other a quill.

The fireplace was to Hermione's left, and it was crackling with flames uproariously. She closed her eyes, savoring the absolute comfort she felt, for she knew she would not have times like these very often.

Stretching a little, she watched as James read the Prophet eagerly. Once in a while, he would furrow his brow, reach over to the table and dip his quill in an ink bottle, and underline or circle something written on the paper.

After watching him do this for five minutes, Hermione could not help but ask, "James?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Reading."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously." He circled something again. "Why are you circling things?"

His eyes briefly flickered over to hers. He looked away quickly and replied, "Don't worry about it. It's just something stupid I like to do."

But the more he refused to tell her, naturally, the more Hermione insisted she wanted to know.

Finally he sighed and motioned for her to come to his side. Uncurling herself from the couch, Hermione padded over to his sofa and he sat up, moving so they could sit next to each other.

He showed her the paper and Hermione grasped it lightly. Glancing at him briefly, Hermione began to read.

At first the markings seemed random. It did not take Hermione long to find the pattern, though. They were consistently numbers—number of deaths, that is. Numbers were circled, ages were underlined, and last names were underline twice.

"James," Hermione said slowly, "why are you keeping count of how many reported deaths there are in the Daily Prophet?"

James rubbed his jaw roughly and straightened his glasses. "Well," he began, "It's really a strange story."

Her silence and questioning eyes propelled him to continue. "I didn't start doing this until the end of term last year," he admitted. "Around June. Around when things…things started happening with the attacks."

Ah, when Voldemort was acting up.

"And so you decided to track him?"

James shook his head. "Not at all. I just remember reading the Prophet one evening, the day after term ended and I was home, and my dad had just walked through the front door. He seemed…a little lost. More baffled, really, and it amused me so I asked him what happened."

He reached around the sofa and picked up his school bag and placed it on his lap, touching the zipper lightly. "He told me he met about the strangest young man in the Leaky Cauldron, who was just starting a newspaper business of his own with the help of his wife—whom he just married, and quite young too, right out of Hogwarts—and he handed me a copy of the boy's first newspaper issue."

James unzipped his school bag he pulled out a second magazine. He handed it over to her, and when Hermione read the name of the newspaper she gasped.

"The  _Quibbler?_ " Hermione blanched.

"Have you heard of it?" James looked at her skeptically.

She blinked and looked up at him. "N-no," she answered, looking back down at it. "Never."

Her eyes roved over the newspaper, and she noticed it was the latest issue. "What is the young man's name, again?" she asked hesitantly. "The one who started this paper?"

James frowned a little. "It's such a mouthful of a name, and I don't think I'm pronouncing it right—but I believe his name is Xenophilius Lovegood."

"Ah," Hermione nodded, still a little shell-shocked. "Ah."

"Indeed," James agreed. "I read this paper last June. Merlin's beard, nearly ninety percent of it was pure garbage. He kept going on and on and  _on_  about some beasts and creatures that no one has ever heard of—I nearly dozed off twice—but thankfully I turned to the Current News section, and noticed some very interesting things."

James took the Quibbler and opened up to a section. "I saw something very particular: the mentioning of certain individuals, though at first glance very vague or unimportant. But they kept showing up, and they were from small families, virtually unknown…and dead. All of them—friends or acquaintances of Lovegood, I'm sure, for how else would he learn of their passing?—were mentioned, week after week. What interested me, however, was that the Daily Prophet never penned down these deceased. Not even in their obituaries."

"And…"

"And isn't that strange? These deaths—none of them were from natural causes. It wasn't as if they went to sleep one night and simply never woke up the next morning. And none of them were cursed either, so they couldn't say it was by magic. It's so strange, so peculiar, and so much like Voldemort's style."

"Yes," Hermione said pensively. "It is very curious…" Hermione stared at the two newspapers again. "So you've been marking what's been reported in the Daily Prophet and what's not?"

"Pretty much," James agreed. "I didn't believe the Quibbler at first, so I went to a few witches and wizards' houses that the paper mentioned, and…well, the bloke had his facts right."

"You went to the homes of the families who lost someone?" He nodded. "And they didn't turn you away?"

"Frankly they were quite happy to have some company," James remarked. "Though they were in tears half the time…these weren't cheerful visits, but the people were very kind. I only went to a few families, but honestly the first family had me convinced."

Hermione nodded in understanding, but James sighed. "I know I'm probably wasting my time, and I didn't mean for this to go one for so long…but it's kind of a habit now. The newspaper thing, I mean."

"It's not a waste of time," she countered. "I think it's…amazing, actually."

"Really?"

"You noticed something no one else has, and that's  _brilliant_ , James. I really think you caught on to something."

It really  _was_  brilliant. As Hermione reread some of the things he had marked, she realized he was withholding a crucial piece of information from her, but which she caught anyway. He was distinguished between a wizard and a muggleborn wizard by their last name, identifying their age; which, if she was correct, were all fairly young—probably right out of school.

If this was all true, then James must have read about  _her_ …when her "parents" were murdered and she had somehow survived…

Suddenly Hermione was overcome by the urge to ask him if he kept the article, but knew at once that it was probably not the best decision. The fact that he failed to mention he was also differentiating between pureblood and halfblood deaths was indicative of his hesitance to tell her anything about it.

In that case…

"Have you been doing this while at school, too?" she inquired.

James nodded. "Mostly in my dorm, though. In the dead of night. Under the covers."

Hermione laughed at his joke, and she stretched in her seat and looked at the time. James followed her line of vision and gasped.

"Merlin's pants, it's eleven o'clock! How the hell did that happen?"

Hermione shrugged. "Don't Dorea or Charlus scold you for staying up late?"

"Nah, they're too busy scheming for their next plots, as they probably are right now."

"What plots?"

James smiled secretively and zipped his lips.

"Why won't you tell me!" Hermione whined. "I hate this!"

"And that's precisely why it's so much more fun not to tell you," James smirked. He sprung to his feet, pulling Hermione along with him. "Come, my dear sister. It is time to go to bed."

"Sister?" Hermione raised a brow.

"Well you may as well be, living here forever and all. So stop your questions," James commanded, and Hermione raised her hands in defeat, much like he had earlier that day.

"I believe you've met the staircase already?" James said as they approached it.

"Yes, I daresay I have," she sighed, and together they climbed up. When they went their separate ways, and Hermione was lying very still in her bed as she stared outside her window, a thought nagged her brain for the longest time and made her toss about on the mattress.

Finally, when the fatigue finally won its battle and was slowly slipping the young Gryffindor into the dream realm, the last thought in her mind was that somehow, during the break, she had to pay Xenophilius Lovegood a visit with inquiry of his newspaper records.

**xxx**

The next morning Hermione woke up with a start.

For a moment she could not recognize where she was or what bed she was sleeping in. It did not take her long to find her bearings, but waking up in the Potters house was very disorienting indeed. She had only slept there once before heading off to school.

The clock on the wall told her she had slept in abominably late, and nobody had bothered waking her. Stretching wildly and sighing when a few joints cracked satisfyingly, Hermione sat up on the bed and rubbed her eyes.

Morning light was creeping its way through the heavy curtains, just enough to tell her the morning had arrived. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Hermione stared wretchedly at the wild bird's nest of hair that was currently reflecting back in the mirror. After many attempts to flatten it, Hermione gave up and trudged downstairs.

When she entered the dining room she did a double take. "O-oh, my," she said breathlessly. She had expected the Potters to already be there eating, but not like this—

"My god, is  _that_  what you look like in the morning?" James blurted with utter fascination.

"James!" Dorea hissed.

" _What_ , look at her, it's bloody hilar—"

"I'm sorry you've had to put up with this all year," Charlus said over the paper he was reading.

"It's quite alright," Hermione choked out. "I-I'll just go back and—and dress properly, this—I—bye."

Hermione darted out of the room and bounded up the staircase. Once in the safe confinement of her room did she resume breathing.

Why on earth had everyone been dressed and ready for the day already?

That was  _not_  customary morning behavior! Oh Merlin, and she had went down looking like a frumpy stack of hay….

After showering, taming her hair, and dressing in more proper attire, Hermione descended down to the dining room once more. They talked amiably; James still shot glances at her and chuckled to himself, clearly reminiscing the horror story she had first come down as.

After Charlus Potter went to work and Dorea headed to the study, Hermione found herself back in the living room and staring out the window.

"So what shall we do today?" she asked James as he entered the room.

"I could give you a tour about the house? I don't think we had time to do that the last time you were here." James paused. "You know what, hold off on that. I'll give you the tour later this week."

"Okay," said Hermione, a little confused. "Anything else, then?" A thought struck her, and suddenly she bolted from her seat.

"Can we go into town?"

"Sure," James shrugged. "I just have to tell mother, and then we'll be off."

James and Hermione peaked into the study and found Dorea Potter sitting comfortably in an armchair with a massive book in her lap.

"Oye, Mum! We're going into town in a few minutes, alright?"

Dorea barely glanced up from her book. "That's nice, dear. Do be careful, and be back for dinner."

Hermione was shocked at the brevity of the exchange but thought nothing of it. What else was to be expected from James Potter, notorious marauder?

After bundling up in warmer clothes, the two stepped towards the fireplace. James took a pinch of Floo powder and said clearly, "Diagon Alley!"

Immediately a shot of flames engulfed him and he disappeared. Hermione stepped in after him and repeated his steps. The flames enveloped her, and Hermione closed her lips before she could inhale a mouthful of soot. The moment she was on solid ground again, she was blasted immediately by a strong and cold wind that nearly stole Hermione's breath.

"Damn winter," James cursed under his breath, standing next to her. "Come on, we better get a move along if we want to get everything done before it gets too crowded."

Walking around town with James Potter ended up being an extraordinarily enjoyable experience. They walked with their arms linked together (more for the sake of keeping themselves warm than anything else, for it was the coldest day of the entire year) and stopped by several shops she did not recognize in the nineties.

For one, there was a small little bookshop at the corner of a street, and inside Hermione was amazed by the books at her disposal. As she explored further her heart nearly exploded out of her chest when she saw books entailing dark magic, and after reading several titles she was convinced it was a hundred percent necessary to return her on her own and make a few purchases. They would certainly improve her chances at destroying some horcruxes, judging from the covers she had seen.

They arrived back, just in time for dinner as promised, and Hermione felt like such a weight was lifted off her—that, for once, she could smile and laugh and it felt so  _right_  to do so, because at that moment in the Potters living room, sitting with James and his parents, Hermione did not need to think about Voldemort and ripped souls and Death Eaters and Time Turners and Slytherins. Hermione could simply  _be_ , and it felt wonderful and feathery light and it made her happy; it made her feel at  _home_.

And the last time she could recall when felt like this…well, it was with Harry and Ron.

Several days had passed like this. The air between Hermione and James was infinitely languorous, as it never had been before. She got along with him so well, he made her laugh  _constantly,_  and she wondered why he was not like this all the time, especially at Hogwarts? Perhaps when he was around other people or his friends, he put up this version of himself that was supposed to be cooler and hotter and more bad ass. But sincerely, she liked this private side of him so much more.

It was the night of December 18, a quiet Thursday in the Godric's Hollow. Hermione had a muggle book propped in her lap, sitting in her usual spot by the fireplace downstairs in the living room. James had taken to spending time with her in this room since the day of their arrival, and Hermione very much enjoyed the company. It was a sort of unspoken agreement between the two to make the living room their 'spot', and if Hermione allowed herself to think about it even a little, she would think it felt rather nice to have a brotherly figure. For in her past life, she had been an only child.

"When are your parents coming back, again?" Hermione asked off-handedly as she turned a page. James was laying on his stomach right before the crackling fireplace, while Hermione had taken residence on the sofa on its left.

"Tomorrow night," James mumbled, flipping through pages of some wizard's magazine.

"And do this every year?"

"Correct."

"I still can't believe they trust  _you_ , of all people, to behave when alone in this house."

James scoffed, "My parents are very important people, Hermione, which you'll soon see the extent of very soon. I'm competent enough to stay alive for three days in their absence, thank you very much."

Hermione grinned. "It also helps that the house elves are here though, doesn't it?"

"Yes, they are the majority of the reason behind my success…."

Hermione laughed, and James got to his feet. "The chamberpots are calling me," he sighed dramatically, and Hermione wrinkled her nose at the image of the medieval methods of toiletry. James made a quick exit and sprinted upstairs, though there was a perfectly fine bathroom on the first floor.

Hermione looked out the window and saw raindrops as thick as golf balls ram against the windowpane mercilessly, and she sighed. A week before Christmas, and it was  _raining?_  Hermione would never be able to understand the unpredictability of weather. It was probably freezing cold outside, and yet the rain.

Sighing again, Hermione turned the page.

As she began to get immersed in the book once again, a noise brought her attention back to the present. At first she thought it was the sound of perhaps a tree branch falling, but it was much more subtle of a sound than that. And it had come from near the front door.

The rain was pounding against the glass so hard that it made it difficult to hear anything else above it. When she shook her head and turned back to the book, the sound came again, only louder.

Hesitantly putting her book down on the sofa, Hermione rose to her feet and slowly approached the window and took a quick peek. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She squinted her eyes to try and see where that noise was coming from, but saw nothing.

Suddenly someone started pounding on the front door madly, with enough force to break it. Luckily the door was reinforced by magical enchantments, so naturally it was impossible to knock it down.

It was also impossible for muggles to see the Potters' residence, so it meant that whoever was at the door could use magic.

_Where is James?_  Hermione thought despairingly, but approached the door nonetheless. She had no intentions of opening the door, but for the sake of her sanity, she needed to know who in the world would come to this house in the dead of night.

She flinched back when the pounded started again, even more frantic than before. She was now only a foot away from the door. Vaguely she heard shouting, of someone's name? It was so raw, and desperate, and the pounding began to grow weaker.

Hermione looked inside the eyehole and strained to see who it was in the dark.

The blood drained out of her face.

Fiercely Hermione grappled with the locks on the door and unlocked them one by one. Her legs were shaking horribly, as were her hands. It made opening the locks all the more difficult, but she was not thinking about that at the time. All her mind played in her head was the image she saw though the eyehole.

Hermione finished the last lock and tore the door open, and looked down at the figure that was now on his knees near the door.

"Oh god," she breathed, taking in the soaking wet appearance of the man in front of her. "Oh  _god_."

Hermione stepped outside and felt herself get soaking wet instantly, but she did not care. Bending down, Hermione grasped his arms and tried to pull him to his feet to get him inside.

"Sirius," Hermione shook him hard. "Sirius!"

He was not responding, but she could tell he was still conscious. She gave a wild tug at him, and after much pulling and coaxing she got him to his feet. "Come on, Sirius," she encouraged him. "Just a little more. A little more and you'll be inside and safe. Come on."

He moaned softly, and Hermione felt her eyes welling at the painful note in the sound.

They stumbled together across the threshold and Hermione kicked the door closed, trusting the enchantments of the house to keep them safe. Dragging him over to the sofa, Hermione flung her book away and forced Sirius to sit.

"James!" Hermione shouted, looking at the frozen boy before her fretfully. " _James!_ "

She refocused her attention on Sirius and saw he was truly soaked to the bone and shivering uncontrollably. He was muttering softly under his breath.

"What? Hermione whispered. "Sirius, what is it?"

She moved closer to him, and she heard him whispering, over and over, "I couldn't do it. Wouldn't. Never. Never. Never. Never."

And then he went limp.

"Mipsy!" Hermione shrieked.

Immediately a house elf appeared next to her. "Mistress called?"

"I need a new change of clothes for him," she said quickly. "And towels and blankets, LOTS of blankets! Quickly!"

Mipsy did not reply and immediately disapparated with a  _crack_.

"Sirius?" She pushed back the hair in front of Sirius's face and her jaw dropped. Sweet  _Salazar_ …

Mipsy was back in an instant and was already helping Sirius out of his wet clothes and into dry, fresh ones. Hermione was extremely worried about the catatonic state Sirius seemed to be in, but he was starting to rouse little by little.

Hermione tugged on a thick sweater over Sirius's head with much difficulty, and said, "Sirius? Sirius. I need you to raise your arms, okay? Can you hear me?" He did not respond. Hermione manually lifted each arm so that she could slide the sweater over him completely. Mipsy had already wrestled him inside a snug and wooly pair of pajamas, and Hermione said to her, "I need you to get James now, Mipsy. Tell him Sirius just showed up at our doorstep."

"Yes, Mistress." And she disappeared again.

Hermione grabbed a towel and began drying his hair quickly, rubbing his head thoroughly. On some level Sirius was conscious enough to keep sitting up straight, but his mind was galaxies away. He was still shivering, and Hermione grabbed a few blankets and wrapped them securely around him.

She pushed his hair away again, and cupped his face in her hands. "Sirius?" she said softly. "Sirius, please answer me. It's Hermione."

His eyes opened, but did not acknowledge her any further. His teeth were chattering, so Hermione kneeled on the sofa and wrapped her arms around him so she could give him her body heat. "It's alright," she whispered softly. "It's alright now. You don't have to say anything. It's all right."

They stayed like that for a while, until the worst of his shivering subsided. She held on to him tightly as if he were her lifeline, gently rocking back and forth.

James bolted into the room then, his eyes a mass of consternation. "What the hell—!"

"He just showed up," Hermione answered quietly. "I don't know anything. He hasn't spoken much. He just showed up."

"Is he hurt?"

"Look for yourself." Hermione moved a little so she was on Sirius's side, and she gently tilted his chin upwards so that James could see his face.

James shrank a little at the sight, his eyes gone wide. "Merlin…" he said weakly.

Sirius flinched then, and Hermione dropped her arms from him.

"What is it?" James asked, finally dropping to his knees in front of him. "Padfoot, what's wrong? What happened?"

Sirius lifted his head and Hermione noticed him scratching painfully at his left arm. He groaned, and then suddenly he viciously pulled out his arm from the blankets and yanked up the sleeve of his sweater.

Hermione gasped loudly. James paled. Two angry words were starting to form on his arm, as if they were being branded onto him permenantly right that very moment.

_Blood Traitor._

Hermione's eyes went wide, and she looked at Sirius incredulously.

"What did you do?" James breathed.

The word were shining brilliantly now and Sirius hissed in pain, which slowly became a growl, and then a full on scream.

"What do we do?" Hermione shrieked.

"I don't know!" James cried.

"You need to contact your parents,  _now!_ " Hermione shouted over Sirius's screams.

"I'll get them," James yelled, jumping to his feet. "Get him to calm down!"

"Right, yes," she breathed. "Hurry! And we need to get him to St. Mungo's!"

James disappeared again, and Hermione looked back at Sirius. He was not screaming anymore, but he was still staring at his arm.

_Sirius_.

Her heart was beating wildly and twisting painfully. "Dear god, Sirius," she whispered quietly. "I wish I was good enough to do more for you."

Something sparked in her head. Hermione sprang up and darted up the stairs and into her bedroom. Throwing open her trunk, Hermione took out the satchel which she brought from her own time. Her hand finally caught onto a cool glass bottle, one that Dumbledore had given her before her journey, one which she never felt she would need to use.

She bounded back downstairs and rushed into the living room, but her heart stopped when she arrived.

For by then, Sirius was gone.


	8. Tabula Rasa

**Chapter 8**

_Tabula Rasa_

Panic. Breathing was very difficult when all she could feel was panic.

 _You lost him? You lost him!_ Hermione's mind was going haywire as she stared at the empty couch, the glass bottle in her hand falling to the plush carpeted floor.

How on earth did he disappear so fast? She had only been gone for a second! Hermione ran down to the dining room, the bathroom, even the kitchens. She threw open the front door and searched nearby outside, getting thoroughly soaked in the process. Nowhere.

She went back to the kitchens and stared at the puzzled house-elves, trying to catch her breath.

"I need you to help me," she said breathlessly. "Sirius Black is somewhere in this house or around this block. Please help me find him."

Several elfish heads bobbed in compliance feverishly, and squeaks of "Master Black!" echoed in the kitchen. With successive  _cracks_  the house-elves disappeared and began their search.

She had only blinked a second later when a little elf popped back in front of her. Hermione jumped a little in surprise, but the elf squeaked, "Master Black is in the third floor bathroom!"

Third floor? She never explored that far…

"Take me, please," she said hastily, and small fingers grasped her wrist.

With a  _pop_  she found herself in a massive porcelain bathroom. Hermione glanced around frantically before she froze, her eyes landing on the target.

Hermione forced herself to look away and reverted her attention down at the elf still beside her, who merely bowed and disappeared with a loud  _crack._

A shaky breath rose in her throat, and Hermione glanced down at her bare feet for a moment, noting that they were growing cold at contact with the tiled floor. Rocking on the balls of her feet, she curled her fingers into fists and looked back up.

Slow, hesitant steps propelled Hermione forward. Had she the time, she would have stopped to marvel at the beautiful bathroom she was in, unparalleled to even the grandiosity of the lavatories in Hogwarts. It was…personalized, modest, and yet so…

The thought did not finish as Hermione reached the tub on the far side of the bathroom. It was wide and round, unlike the traditional elongated oval tub structure. She kneeled down lightly, the skin of her knees meeting the cold and unrelenting tiled floor.

She was afraid to speak, desperately fighting the urge to say his name. It would shatter whatever calm state he was in, that was for sure.

He was sitting down, leaning against the tub edge inside with one leg out and the other bent up. His arms were crossed over his stomach, his eyes closed as if to drown out the rest of the world. Wet tendrils of hair framed his face. He could have been asleep, but his fast intakes of breath gave him away.

Two minutes ago Sirius Black had been a shivering and incoherent mess, not to mention bodily injured. Now, most of his face—which had previously sported several gashes and bruises—was reduced to just a darkened shade of grey and some swelling below his right eye.

"I healed it," Sirius said, and she jumped a little at the sudden sound of his voice. He was watching her passively, probably the entire time she had been inspecting him.

She cleared the hoarseness from her throat. "That…they'll know you performed underage—"

"Not quite." He glanced at the ceiling. "There are a dozen or so house-elves performing magic here regularly. They won't know who performed a few simple healing spells."

They sat in silence. Hermione was at a loss of what to do. Should she speak to him? Comfort him? Ask him what happened? Why he showed up late at night at James's doorstep with two words etched nastily into his forearm and a battered face?

He was like a fuse waiting to blow out, and suddenly Hermione did not know what to do, or say, or think, and that frustrated her. Hermione was all wise words and motivational speeches, but when it came down to the crux of the matter, she felt she was as incompetent with saying the right words as a mountain troll.

"Do you want to get some sleep?" she offered, finally forcing some words come out of her mouth. "I can set up a room—"

The sagging of his shoulders made her stop.

Sirius opened his eyes blearily to stare at her. She was slightly startled to find him gazing at her so fixatedly, not even looking away when she gazed back at him.

His gazed lowered slowly, until he turned his attention to the crossed arms on his stomach. Slowly he moved his forearm and stared blankly.

_Blood traitor._

Hermione flinched at the words, at the horrible thought of someone inscribing that into Sirius's arm. Was he held down? Sirius was not one to sit down and let others hurt him, she knew that much. Looking at the bloodied inscription, for some insane reason, gave her a bout of déjà vu, as if she had seen something like it before.

How did he get away? Was this… _this_  was what prompted Sirius to run away from home?

Hermione looked back at his face, and felt her chest swelling with an indescribable emotion that she felt only twice in her life.

Once, in her fourth year when Harry returned from the maze clutching Cedric Diggory's body. The other, when she woke up in the Department of Mysteries to find Harry in hysterics after Sirius fell behind the veil.

She clamped down the urge to damn it all to hell and throw her arms around him, knowing it was probably not the wisest move in the book. Especially when Sirius was so out of it.

Without a second thought, Hermione slowly extended her hand. Pale fingers lightly grazed his cheek, and Sirius glanced up sharply.

"Come with me," said Hermione softly.

She dropped her hand from his face and reached for his hand. Gently she took hold of him and he watched her actions, then made his way back to her face. She could only gaze back with every ounce of sincerity in her body.

His hand returned her grasp, holding hers with a fierce grip as if she would slip away like water. She did not waver.

She helped him slowly rise out of the tub, and they walked quietly out of the bathroom and down the hall. Biting her lip, they walked down one flight of stairs and Hermione guided him to her own bedroom, where she had some first aid supplies.

Perhaps on a better day Sirius would have made some note of the décor of her room, and the simplicity of her bed sheets that went against every cardinal rule he knew of the female population, but at present he simply slumped down onto her mattress and watched with hooded eyes as Hermione moved about her room quickly, searching for something.

She bumped into the dresser hard and he heard her grumble a curse. She seemed a little out of her element, but that could be due to the fact that Hermione was not accustomed to this room, for she had just started to live in it.

He blinked out of his thoughts when she knelt before him, looking at her with some surprise. She gave an apologetic smile. "Excuse me, please."

He shifted his legs away as Hermione reached under the bed and pulled out her trunk. He watched her with curiosity as she threw it open and sifted through it, noting how everything was kept neatly in its place with every article of clothing carefully folded.

She pulled out a large pack from her trunk and started digging inside, her arm literally disappearing as she fumbled around. After a few minutes she sighed and retracted her arm, then dropped the pack back inside her trunk and pushed it aside. Rising to her feet, Hermione sat next to him and reached for his arm gently.

Sirius stiffened and gave her calculating look, but Hermione sighed again and answered his unspoken question, "It's to clean it, Sirius."

She reached for his arm again and this time he did not pull away. She rolled up his sleeve and opened her free hand, which had strange little squares in them. She ripped one open and took out a small towel, and her eyes flickered up to meet his briefly.

"This will sting."

He barely had time to respond when she started to wipe away at the bloodied words inscribed on his arm, and he hissed.

"What the hell is that," he said suddenly, eyebrows knitted together as curiosity got the better of him. Hermione could not prevent the smile that flashed across her face.

"Alcohol prep wipes," she said simply. "Muggle things. Don't worry about it, they're very effective at sterilization and cleaning."

He did not say anything else and merely watched her carefully clean his scarred forearm. Hermione had to admit that while Sirius must have been seriously injured, mentally, physically, and emotionally, it had not deterred from his abilities as a wizard when it came down to it. The healing spell he performed on himself was, for the most part, flawless. The inevitable part was the scarring, which Hermione thought she could definitely help with.

She leaned away from him and set the used wipes on her bedside table, then stood up.

"Can I trust you to stay here when I come back?" she inquired. Sirius's eyes flickered to hers for a moment, then nodded.

"I'll be right back," she said quickly, and made a swift exit down the stairs to pick up the glass bottle she had dropped earlier. Bounding back up the staircase, Hermione reentered her room to see Sirius sitting exactly as he had before. Taking a breath, Hermione resumed her position beside him.

"If you don't mind," said Hermione carefully, "I have something that can heal the scarring."

Sirius glanced at the bottle with an unreadable expression. Perhaps he was skeptical or thoughtful, she would never know, but his reply was what shook her.

"I don't want it healed," he said simply.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Wha—why?"

Sirius shrugged. Hermione narrowed her eyes. "If this is some gallant display of bravery or sheer masochism, I don't want to hear it."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her words. "Do I look like a masochist, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned, shaking her head slowly. "I still don't understand why you don't want it gone."

Sirius looked away and gazed into the distance. Hermione rolled the bottle lightly in her hand and sighed. She could not force him to use the potion if he did not want it, but it still left her deeply puzzled. Everything about this night was leaving her deeply puzzled.

"Where's James?"

Hermione glanced at him and shook her head. "I actually don't know…he said he was going to contact his parents."

Sirius nodded and then gently began rolling down his sleeve. Hermione peered at him curiously, and asked, "Would you at least like me to help with what's left of the bruises?"

Sirius blinked in surprise, as if forgetting he even had them. "The ones on my face?"

Hermione frowned slightly, afraid of the answer she would get. "Are there more?"

Sirius shrugged, and Hermione was glad she had the patience she knew Harry and Ron never had; or if they did, they struggled deeply to convey it. Taking slow breath, she murmured, "Well yes then, let's start on your face."

Hermione stood and retrieved her wand from her dresser, then sat next to him and motioned for him to turn to face her. He eyed her wand and said, "What about the Ministry, Hermione?"

The corner of her mouth twitched up slightly, and she replied, "With a dozen or so house-elves working here round the clock, a few healing spells won't attract too much attention."

She conjured a bowl of water and a cloth, and began by dabbing the dried blood from his face first. She felt like too much like her own mother when Hermione had been a child. Playing outside as a young girl always had its hazards, and she could not count the amount of times Hermione had returned home with a scraped knee or a splinter. The thought of her parents brought a flood of wistful feelings inside her. She did not even get to tell them goodbye…and she never would.

Shaking her head to quell the stinging sadness threatening to overtake her mind, Hermione focused on the task at hand.

For someone as raucous and rambunctious as Sirius Black, he was an awfully good patient. He remained quiet as she cleaned him up, and if the alcohol stung, he did not voice his complaints. Somehow the words  _'taking it like a man'_  seemed very befitting for this instance.

She brought her wand to his face and with a flick of her wrist, reduced the swelling of his eye and slowly cleared the bruises from his face. The scars of his injuries remained, as Sirius wanted, and within a few minutes he appeared in far better condition than what he arrived in. Satisfied, Hermione moved away and gazed at him appraisingly.

"I think that should do it," she muttered, eyeing him critically. She set her wand down and moved to toss the bloodied supplies out. Sitting back on the bed, Hermione sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

"Are there…any other places where you're hurt?" she asked hesitantly. Sirius glanced at her impassively before shrugging.

"It's not as bad."

She clucked her tongue. "It can't hurt to clean it up, can it?"

"It's nothing, Hermione," said Sirius firmly. "Let it go, alright?"

She bristled slightly, but heeded his words and his need for privacy. "Would you like to go downstairs, then?" Hermione asked.

"No."

"Would…you like a room to get some sleep in? There's so many here, I haven't even started exploring it all." As she said the words it sounded silly; Sirius had probably scoured the Potter manor a dozen times and back. He clearly knew his way around the third floor, a place even she had not stepped foot in yet.

"No thanks."

Hermione lowered her eyes, and laced her fingers together.

"…Would you tell me what happened tonight?"

She waited for a response, but he remained eerily quiet. It was so odd, seeing Sirius like this. Normally he was vivacious and loud and filling the air with infectious laughter; even in anger he was cutthroat and direct. Never had she seen him so…silent.

"I made a decision," said Sirius suddenly, and Hermione almost jumped at the break in silence, "one that my family did not like."

Her brow furrowed slightly at his words. He looked at her then, a mocking smile twisting at his lips. "They gave me a very fitting birthday present, don't you think?"

Hermione's mouth parted slightly at his words. Blinking furiously, Hermione whispered in disbelief, "Today…today is your  _birthday_?"

"December 18, 1959," said Sirius solemnly, and shrugged. "My sixteenth birthday could have been worse, mind you."

"Forgive me if I find it hard to believe  _that_ ," Hermione replied incredulously. "I'm sorry if it offends in any way, but your family is mental. Absolutely, positively mental. What they did—what they've done—I can never forgive it."

"You don't even know what it is you're not forgiving, love," said Sirius quietly.

"I can draw conclusions, from what I'm seeing and from what I've heard," replied Hermione unsteadily. "Although you are correct. I'll never know what they did to you. Not unless you tell me yourself." He lowered his eyes to his own calloused hands, and Hermione added, "When you're ready, of course."

"There's not much to tell," answered Sirius distantly with the barest hint of a shrug. "I never…I've never really been a part of the Black family. Like oil and vinegar. This…" he gestured to himself, then around him in nonchalance, "was going to happen eventually."

Hermione slowly digested his words, feeling some relief that he was talking a bit more again. "You're…you're not going back, are you." It was stated as more a fact, and the more she thought about it the more she knew that was the answer. "You've run away."

Sirius looked at her in the eyes, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. "You really are the brightest witch of your age, Hermione."

Hermione did not know if that was said mockingly or earnestly, but frankly at this point Hermione did not care. Sirius was safe. The Potters would be coming back shortly. There was not much else she could ask for at this point.

"Look..."

Hermione's attention snapped back to Sirius, and was surprised to see him eyeing her apprehensively. "About...about what happened at Hogsmeade."

"Sirius..."

"Just listen. It was wrong of me to bring up that subject the way I did. I didn't realize-I didn't know what you said about your friends was true. I'm really sorry."

His face was upturned towards her, dark grey eyes reflecting with what Hermione could only see as truth.

"Hermione?"

Both Sirius and Hermione looked up at the voice that entered her bedroom. James was standing by the door, looking more anxious than he did during the first Quidditch match of the season.

James stepped inside slowly, looking immediately at Sirius. "You alright there, mate?"

Sirius nodded, giving a slight shrug. "Been better…but I'll live."

"Mum and Dad are on their way," James informed them, and shifted uneasily on his feet. "You want to crash in your room? At least until they arrive, and then we'll head to St. Mung—"

"I'm not going to the hospital," said Sirius firmly, his posture stiffening. James gave an incredulous laugh.

"Sorry mate, but I don't think you have a choice this time."

"I don't need to. I'm healed, and I'm fine. Right Hermione?" Sirius looked at her directly in the eye, and having him looking at her so resolutely made her shrink back slightly. "You healed my bruises, and I healed my arm. It's alright."

Both James and Sirius were looking at her, but with distinctly different expressions. However, both were gazing at her expectantly, and Hermione began to shake her head slowly.

"I…I don't think…"

"There, she agrees with me. You're going to the hospital," said James, and Sirius whirled back at his best friend.

"Don't put words in her mouth, James! She hasn't said anything yet!"

Hermione had a feeling this argument would only escalate further if she did not stop it before it got out of hand. Standing to her feet, Hermione raised her hands slightly.

"Enough, you two," she said sharply, and they snapped their attention at her. Taking a shaky breath, Hermione said, "Sirius is tired. Just…let him rest, for now. We'll figure everything else out when the time comes."

Neither looked entirely satisfied with her neutral response, but before either could protest Hermione took Sirius by the arm and forced him to stand up. Turning to James, she quipped, "Please show me to his room."

James glanced one last time at Sirius before heading out the door. She followed him, her hand still wrapped around Sirius's arm.

"You don't have to guide me like a duckling, sweetheart," said Sirius blandly, and Hermione fought not to immediately let him go, "I know my way around this house."

"Yes, well," mumbled Hermione, holding onto him even tighter. "I don't exactly trust your ability to stay standing right now."

"What indication did I give that makes you assume I can't walk?"

Hermione looked at him with an annoyed glance and muttered, "Just walk, please."

**xxx**

Sixteen hours later, the chaos surrounding the Potter residence barely lessened.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter arrived back sometime at midnight, frantic and searching for Sirius, who was for the moment fast asleep in his bedroom. Coincidentally, Sirius's summer bedroom was across from hers. Hermione tried not to dwell on the irony.

She had awoken at the sounds of loud voices, and blearily stumbled down the hall to see a very resistant Sirius and a very enthusiastic Mrs. Potter with her arms wrapped around Sirius's torso and hugging him tightly. He seemed to be vehemently refusing a trip to St. Mungo's, and shot down every attempt made on Charlus Potter's part to persuade him otherwise. For once James did not take the side of his best friend, and after reaching land's end, Sirius turned to Hermione for rescue, eyes wide with desperation.

"Hermione?" Charlus asked. "Do you agree?"

Hermione's mouth opened, but no sound came out. What was she to say?

So she gave him what she was best at giving; facts.

"Sirius healed most of his injuries before I got to him," Hermione said slowly. "Physically…he should be fine."

Sirius gave a look of triumph and firmly but gently extracted himself from Dorea's embrace. "See, even Hermione agrees. I'm alright."

"And mentally?" Charlus inquired, still gazing at Hermione. Sirius's face hardened slightly at this, and his eyes shot to Hermione's face.

Swallowing hard, Hermione was at a loss of words. She did not like being put in this position. But what was perhaps worse, was Sirius watching his fate being decided for him…and that was Hermione could sympathize with.

"Mr. Potter, with all due respect," said Hermione quietly, "…I don't think it's a decision we have a right to make for him."

Perhaps that should have been an indication that chaos would ensue; nonetheless Sirius stayed firmly in his bedroom all night, and Hermione could not help but tread timidly around the Potters, for she knew they must have been deeply dissatisfied with her answer last night.

The next morning passed with a stiff breakfast ordeal, and Hermione firmly ignored the pointed glares coming from James. Thankfully Dorea and Charlus were not too cross with her, for when they noticed their son's behavior they quickly reprimanded the fifteen-year-old teenager.

The day passed quickly, though perhaps much more quietly than she presumed, what with Sirius staying with them indefinitely. Though the subject had not been broached yet, she knew it would be arriving soon.

All the Potter residents had decided to spend the day inside their respective rooms, a stark contrast to what it had been the past few weeks. Needless to say, it made Hermione feel uneasy.

And then the moment, the one she had been expected with abated breath all day, arrived.

Dinner was a quiet affair. James was sitting across from her, and Sirius was sitting on her left. The food was delicious, as it always was, but she could not keep the uneasiness from creeping inside her as she snuck discreet glances at the Dorea and Charlus, then at the two Marauders. It felt…off.

After ten minutes, the sound of a fork cluttering onto a plate resounded in the dining room. Hermione looked up sharply to see Charlus staring resolutely at Sirius.

"Son, I think it's time we spoke about what happened last night."

Dread pooled inside of her. Was  _now_  really the right time to discuss this?

Sirius glanced between Charlus and Dorea. "Uh…"

Dorea spoke up softly. "Sirius, dear," she placed her hand on his, "we cannot even try to help you if we don't know what happened. Please," she said gently, "tell us."

Slowly he set his utensils onto the plate, and leaned back against his chair with a sigh. "There's…not much to it."

"Start with what there is, then," said Charlus.

"It's...complicated, Mr. Potter," said Sirius hesitantly, "It was my birthday yesterday. I was given an ultimatum that I've been expecting for some time…and I did what my parents did not approve of. They branded me, and I left." Defiantly, he added, "Permanently."

Charlus was nodding slowly. "They've cut you off, I presume."

Sirius nodded. "Before I left I owled my uncle about what happened, and I got an answer this morning. I think he'll be coming by soon with my things from my house."

At this, Charlus's face cracked into a smile. "I always did like that man."

Dorea gazed at Sirius with a very motherly look. "Sirius, you  _know_  that this house will always be your home as well," she looked at her husband, who merely nodded in agreement. "We expect we don't really need to say it verbally, for you should already know, but I'll say it anyway for good measure." She looked at Sirius firmly in the eye. "We're glad you came to us, Sirius. You are welcome to stay here— _permanently_ —if you so wish."

Sirius gazed at her for a moment, before a genuine smile spread across his face.

"Thank you," he said honestly. Slowly the tension lessened and Hermione resumed eating her dinner slowly.

There was still a lot she did not know about Sirius. But she did not mind waiting to find out.

A loud knock on the door startled Hermione, and Sirius rose from his seat.

"That was damn fast," he muttered under his breath, and pushed out of his chair quickly. Everyone else followed suit, plates of dinner long forgotten as Hermione slid out of her own chair and followed Sirius into the foyer. He opened the door quickly and watched him pause for a moment.

"You're the bloody greatest, Uncle," she heard him say cheerily, and he threw his arms around the man standing in front of the door.

"Are you kidding? You managed to piss off more people than I did when I lived at Grimmauld Place," the man laughed loudly, his voice tinkling with amusement.

Sirius pulled back and ran a hand through his hair. "You have my clothes?"

"And your school trunk," said the man with a wink. "Dear old Walburga was so happy to see me, she accidentally mixed a wine-pouring charm with  _crucio_."

"Classy, as always," said Sirius with obvious disgust. "Please, come in."

Sirius stepped back and Hermione was finally able to see the mysterious uncle at the door. She presumed this was the man Sirius had wanted her to meet when she accidentally time-travelled to 1970, and surely enough, he was as jovial and charming as she thought he would be.

The man exchanged a few words with the elder Potters, and ruffled James's hair roguishly and grinned when James tried to swat him. His eyes landed onto Hermione, and she shifted a little nervously, trying to find her voice so that she could properly introduce herself.

Just as she stepped forward, Sirius's came beside her. "I'm so sorry, I don't believe you two have met before. Hermione, this is my Uncle Alphard. Uncle, this is my classmate Hermione Granger."

" _Ah_ , the one you wrote about a while ago?" Alphard Black said with a knowing grin, and Hermione gave a nervous smile before glancing at Sirius, who was glaring at his uncle.

"No I don't believe I have," said Sirius tightly, but his words were ignored on the older Black.

Extending his hand, he flashed a grin. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. I am truly sorry for what happened to you over the summer."

She shook his hand firmly, and gave a small smile. "The pleasure is mine, sir. And thank you."

Alphard's eyebrows shot up in the air as he gave his nephew and hearty look. "Did you hear that, Sirius? 'Sir'! I think you've met you ma—"

"You must be tired, Uncle, please come eat with us," Sirius interjected, and Alphard put his hands up in a show of complacence. As he started for the kitchen, Alphard glanced back at Hermione and gave her a sly wink.

Hermione sighed and followed, wondering when her life would return to some semblance of normalcy.

A plate of food and a spot on the table were quickly attended to, and Alphard was seated beside James as dinner was resumed. Idle chatter filled the air, and Hermione glanced over at those seated at the table. James was in some sort of argument with Alphard about a current Quidditch team, and even Charlus had decided to join the conversation and was quick to take the Alphard's side, much to James's annoyance. Her eyes wandered to Sirius, who was watching his uncle with rapt attention, and grinning occasionally before sharing his own input. It did not take a genius to see how much Sirius adored his uncle, and especially how the feeling was unfailingly mutual. Alphard Black's mere presence had been enough to lift Sirius's spirits, bringing him back to a somewhat normal disposition.

After a while when dinner had been finished, Alphard focused his attention to his nephew with a sobered expression.

"Sirius," he said lightly, "I presume you wish to stay with the Potters for the remainder of your school years?"

"Yes," he said automatically, before frowning a bit. "Unless you…you'd like me to stay with you?"

Alphard shook his head and threw his hands in the air in defense. "I want you to do what you want to do, Sirius," he said calmly. "It's always been your better instinct so far. I'm just letting you know the option is always open. I know you have two of your friends living here, and I wouldn't want to take that away from you. You've been living under too many damn rules for the past sixteen years, and I sure as hell am not about to give you any more."

Sirius smiled slightly at this, and nodded. "Then I would like to continue to stay with the Potters. Until the end of my seventh year."

"Don't be silly," said Dorea sharply. "You can't be expected to graduate and have a job so quickly, my dear. You can stay here as long as you wish."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter," said Sirius politely, "but…it's something I have to do."

"All is well," Alphard interjected when it seemed Dorea was going to reply, and focused back on Sirius. "I saw your name blasted off the old family tree just like me as well. Swelled in pride, if you asked me, but naturally that occurrence has its pitfalls. You've been stripped of your inheritance, I presume?"

"Down to every last knut," Sirius said with a half grin. Alphard chuckled and shook his head slightly.

"You never cease to amuse me, my dear nephew." He sighed and cleared his throat, glancing around suddenly. "Well, it's not wise to stay sitting like this. Let us clean up, shall we? I'll help your trunks up the stairs, Sirius."

"I can do it," James offered, already rising to his feet. Alphard placed his hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"I'd like to do it, my boy," he said gently, and James nodded slowly, slight confusion etching on his face. He moved to Sirius's school trunk and gripped the handle. "Come, Sirius, bring up your bags."

Sirius gave a strange look and did as he was told, grabbing his bags and heading up the staircase behind his uncle. Hermione blinked, and looked at James in curiosity.

"What was that about?" asked James with a furrowed brow.

Charlus sighed and rose from his seat. "We'll find out soon, enough, son. For now, I think it's best we start preparing for the Christmas party."

Those words immediately caught Hermione's attention. "The what?"

Charlus looked at her in confusion. "Has James not told you?"

Hermione shot a dour look at her now step-brother, who gave an unapologetic grin.

"Oops?"

"James!" she gasped. "This is what you've been hiding from me? Seriously?"

"Hey, I thought it'd be a really good surprise when I woke you up on the twenty-third and threw you into the fireplace with a handful of Floo powder."

"Floo—why would we need that?" Hermione looked at the Potters with unveiled consternation. "Are we going somewhere?"

Dorea looked at her fondly, and reached over to pat her on the head. "Oh yes, dear. You're going to love it."

Before Hermione could ask any more questions, the sound of loud steps down the stairs entered the hallway, and Hermione finally rose from her seat and grabbed her plate to put into the kitchen.

"Well, it was wonderful seeing you all again," said Alphard cheerily, adjusting running a hand through his cropped black hair, much like she saw Sirius do so frequently. A smile quirked her lips when she realized where exactly he had gotten it from. Alphard approached the door, but paused to give her an approving glance.

"Keep an eye on him, dearie. He's rough with the things he cares for."

Blinking in surprise, she barely had a chance to give a proper farewell before Alphard Black was out the door, and disappeared from sight.

James, who had been standing next to her, turned his head slightly. "Oye, mate! What's with face, yeah? You look like you've just swallowed bubotuber puss."

Sirius had come back down the stairs, and was looking quite dazed. Hermione frowned and walked up to him in concern.

"Sirius, what happened?"

Sirius shook his head, his eyes barely focusing on her.

"It's my uncle…he just gave me nearly all his inheritance."

**xxx**

Hermione stifled a sigh as she finished brushing her teeth. Stretching wide, she trudged back into her bedroom and crawled to her bed, wishing for nothing more than entering the dream realm in a long, uninterrupted bout of sleep. Before she could even fluff her pillow, however, the door to her bedroom knocked.

"Come in," she said tiredly.

The door swung open silently and Hermione was surprised at her visitor. "Sirius?"

"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair in a show of nervousness.

"Is…something the matter?" she asked uncertainly. She watched him shake his head, and Hermione sat up in her bed. "You can sit if you like," she offered when he made no move to speak any further.

He sat down immediately, and Hermione had a feeling that this was no casual 'good night, sleep well' talk.

"Did something happen?"

Sirius looked at her for a moment before nodding. "It was a while ago, though."

Hermione was getting seriously confused at this point, and voiced it as such. "Sirius, you're not making any sense."

He gave a slight chuckle and shook his head. "Yeah, I suppose I'm not." He sighed, and looked at her slowly.

"So…I know this may not be the best time to discuss this…but I mean, it's a giant bloody elephant in the room whenever we're in the same vicinity and I thought it was about time to clear it up. Especially if we'll be living together for next few years."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "I'm not following…"

Sirius's hand gripped her sheets in a tight grasp, and he let out a loose breath.

"I've been an uncompromisable arse to you for the past few months."

"That again?" Hermione said, puzzled. "You already apologized yesterday."

"Did I?" said Sirius, frowning. "Right...right, I did. But you didn't say anything."

"Well no, James had walked in. But...I suppose it's fine."

Sirius glanced at her, his expression shifting from penance to disbelief. "That's it?"

And the confusion returned in full force, and Hermione found herself at a loss of words. "Was there something else?"

"No, just—you accepted so quickly. i hadn't expected—"

"Listen," Hermione interrupted before he could go on a tirade. "I accept your apology. We've both had our bouts of unkindness towards each other. Let's just leave it at that."

"But that's not even true," said Sirius suddenly. "You've been nothing but kind since you've come here."

"You make me sound like a saint," Hermione muttered, knowing quite well that she was anything but.

"I should not have been so angry when I saw you talking to my brother. He and I—" Sirius sighed, and shook his head. "We don't exactly get along, as you might have been able to tell. And seeing you talking to him…well, at the time I didn't like it, and honestly I still don't like it, but I should not have said those things to you. They were very cruel."

"Sirius," she answered quietly, causing his grey eyes to flicker down onto hers. She took his hand gently, and gave a smile. "Honestly. It's alright. I'm not one to hold a grudge. Not for too long, at least, and not for people who've said they're sorry several times."

After digesting her words, a small smile quirked the side of his wonderfully full mouth. "And you wonder why you're a saint," he said with a tone of amusement. His eyes sobered, and he looked at her firmly. "About Hogsmeade again," he started, but Hermione quickly stopped him before he could continue.

"It's all in the past," said Hermione. "Please just let it be."

Sirius nodded his head. "I won't do that to you ever again," he said sincerely, but the words meant more than she was certain he realized.

Hermione had thought coming to this time would mean staying hidden in the shadows and passing quietly through the years, destroying horcruxes as she found them. But it was a bitter life, a lonely life that Hermione knew she could not live with. Not after having friends like Harry and Ron. Not after that.

And there it was, the realization that that kind of solitude was never meant to be a life for her; she would always need someone to help her, to befriend her, to make her life that much more enriched.

And in this lifetime, it was the marauders.

A grin had spread across her face and she did not even realize it until Sirius had begun grinning with her, though slightly more nervously than her.

"Hermione?"

"Tabula rasa," said Hermione suddenly.

Sirius's eyebrow went up. "Now I'm the one not following, love."

Hermione nodded, and squeezed his hand. "Everything is in the past now. We can start good as new, if you'd like."

"Tabula rasa," he said slowly, rolling the words on his tongue as if testing it out. He flashed her a slow grin. "I like the sound of that." He released her hand and held his out to shake hers properly.

"I don't think we've met before. I'm Sirius Black. I have an affinity of being an insufferable asshole."

Hermione suppressed her laughter as she shook his hand. "Hermione Granger. I tend to be an insufferable know-it-all."

He laughed at her words, and Hermione could not help but join him as she recalled when a certain Potions professor had said those very same words to her a few years earlier. "Ah, but those are the best kinds, love," he said with a smile, and Hermione was not about to disagree with that.

**xxx**

"Honestly, is all this really necessary?" Hermione complained as she brought a trunk down the stairs with James hot on her heels.

"You'll be laughing at your own silliness soon enough, dear sister," said James with a grin.

"Sirius is hardly bringing anything with him," she noted, turning to look back at the sleepy Black heir following behind her. He gave a tired grin. "That's because I know what to expect, love."

She barely had time to dwell on his response before Dorea came rushing to her. She glanced over to James. "Is she ready? Does she have her things?"

"She does, actually," Hermione replied for herself, finding it odd how she was being spoken about when she was standing less than a foot away from Dorea.

"She's fine, mum," James replied easily, and then took Hermione by the arm and guided her to the living room. He lowered himself to her ear and whispered, "Are you ready?"

She blinked up at him and replied, "For what?"

He seemed to have found her response amusing, for a deep chuckle left his throat. "Ah, my lovely Hermy. You'll see soon enough."

"Her—my—ow—nee," she hissed under her breath, but was cut off when a pinch of Floo powder was thrust into her hand, and was suddenly ushered into the fireplace.

"Now, repeat after me," said James seriously. "Number Six, Draper Court."

"Number Six, Draper Court," Hermione repeated slowly, and James frowned.

"That was the worst repetition I've ever heard. Put some heart into it, woman!"

"Number Six, Draper Court!" Hermione cried loudly, and threw the powder down onto the fireplace. A mass of green flames erupted and enveloped around her, and Hermione felt the telltale rush of traveling by Floo network.

Hermione staggered into a new fireplace, and coughed when a cloud of ashes puffed around her. Shakily she stepped out of the fireplace before anyone could knock her over at their arrival. Eyes streaming, Hermione wiped at her eyes and face and cleared her throat. After readjusting, Hermione finally looked at where she had arrived.

Her mouth fell open in disbelief.

Green flames ignited into the fireplace, and she heard the voices of Dorea and James enter behind her.

"Bloody hell, looks like we've not got much to do this time around, don't you say, mother?"

"Yes, yes," she said distractedly to her son, and walked promptly over to the dozen people working around in the giant room. "Emilia! Where are the crystal drapes?"

Through the corner of her eye, she saw James sidle besides her.

"Do you know what to be ready for now?" he said with obvious amusement.

"This is more extravagant than the Yule Ball," she said in wonder, finally closing her mouth.

"The what?" asked James curiously, but Hermione merely shook her head. She felt a rush of warmth behind her and heard Sirius's voice as he arrived in the fireplace.

"Whaddimiss?" he yawned, standing beside her as well.

"Nothing but the expression of pure wonder," said James loftily.

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms, and gave James a pointed look.

"I'm going to have to wear a dress, aren't I."

She regretted her words instantly, for Dorea's head snapped towards the three teenagers and she rushed over to them frantically.

"I completely forgot! You need a dress!"

Hermione suppressed a groan and gave a small smile, but Dorea was already reaching inside her purse. Dorea looked back up at Hermione with a jingling pouch in hand. "It's really not quite as formal as you're probably imagining," said Dorea with a grim smile. "It's just something we like to do each year. Nearly every family of nobility throws these kinds of parties during the holidays, but we like to do things a little differently. We've pretty much lost a lot of ties with family members for our political and circumstantial beliefs," she gave a small, fond pat on Hermione's hand, "but in all honesty, I would not throw a party in any other way."

"What is it that you do?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Well—" Dorea started enthusiastically, but James quickly stepped in.

"Ah, mother, don't spoil the surprise! Weren't you going to give Hermione something just now?"

Dorea blinked in surprise. "Oh! You're right my dear, these explanations can be told at a more prudent time," she turned to Hermione and handed her a thick leather pouch. "That's for you. There's some wizard money in case you can't find anything in the muggle shops, but I would love it if you bought a regular dress that I'm sure you've worn growing up."

"You—you want me to go to muggle shops? I would think that perhaps dress robes, or—"

"Ah, yes, I can see why you would think that, but this is one of the things I changed about traditional Christmas parties," Dorea gave a mischievous smile. "You know, having more well-rounded people is never a bad thing, especially regarding something so deeply misunderstood." Hermione's brow furrowed at her cryptic words, but was quickly ushered back to the fireplace.

"Sirius," said Dorea, and Sirius looked up. "Would you please accompany Hermione? You know how it isn't safe for young girls walking through the city alone."

"Absolutely, Mrs. Potter," Sirius nodded, and flashed Hermione a grin as he stepped in the fireplace with her.

James watched them with a slightly put-out expression. "I'd like to see this travesty as well, you know. I'm coming with you."

"No you will most certainly not," said James's mother sternly, giving him a harsh look. "I need your help here."

"But—!"

" _James._ "

Giving the two of them a sour look, James acquiesced and followed his mother, grumbling under his breath.

Hermione looked over to Sirius. "So, where exactly are we going?"

Sirius looked down at her and then replied easily, "To London, of course."

**xxx**

"When's the last time you've been here?" asked Sirius lazily as the two of them walked down a very busy sidewalk. Muggle London was always an exciting place to visit, with shops and stores at every turn. It was very interesting to see the current fashion from the seventies, and Hermione wondered what array of dresses would be at her disposal.

Hermione pondered his question. "I honestly can't remember," she replied with a small smile. "I came here with my mum, I think. It was a while ago."

"You lived in a muggle house, right?" Hermione nodded looked up at Sirius, who was gazing at her eagerly. "What was it like?"

Hermione blinked. "Pardon?"

"You know," he gestured incoherently, "what was it like, living in a muggle house with muggle things, doing things the muggle way? It must have been very interesting, no?"

Hermione laughed a little at his rapt enthusiasm. "I suppose in a wizard's standpoint, yes," she answered, thinking of Arthur Weasley and his infatuation with the muggle lifestyle. "But growing up with it, it was really nothing."

"Tell me something," said Sirius with curiosity. "Anything. Like how you made your breakfasts with muggle devices."

Hermione laughed. "Sirius, I hate to say this but we're not a complete different species," she shook her head, "almost everything we do is the same. We still use pots and pans and soap to clean the dishes."

Sirius grinned and shook his head. "I'm sorry if I'm coming off as ignorant. I really just…I don't know, it fascinates me. Always has. That was probably the first indication to my parents that I was the wrong sort of Black."

Hermione sobered slightly at the mention of Sirius's parents. Had she the ability, she would have loved to hex the pants off his horrid mother and father.

Clearing her throat, she looked up at him deviously. "Well, we do have something called a toaster."

A spark of interest showed in Sirius's eyes. "Toaster?"

"Mhm," Hermione nodded, looking at the street ahead of her with amusement. "It's a metal box with slits that you put bread slices into. It heats up the bread and then pops them out when they're fully toasted."

The grin on Sirius's face could not be wiped out even of Voldemort decided to Apparate in front of him at that moment. "Amazing," he said softly.

Hermione giggled slightly, and Sirius gave her a look. "Don't you dare laugh!" he said in mock anger.

She shook her head, but the smile did not fade. "You are simply too much fun, Sirius."

She did not notice how his gaze lingered on her for a moment, before he ran his hand through his hair and glanced around. "Would you like to try that store?"

Hermione glanced in the direction he was pointing to, and nodded. They approached it slowly, and a bell chimed when the door opened. A woman at the door greeted them, her gaze lingering pointedly at Sirius. He gave her a passing look and walked away, but Hermione noticed the small, coy smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

Hermione looped her arm around Sirius's and dragged him away, causing him to look down at her in surprise.

"Is something wrong?"

"Don't even get me started," Hermione muttered darkly, releasing his arm when they were finally far away from the woman at the door. " _Honestly_."

"What?" Sirius asked exasperatedly, though he clearly was finding some humor in the situation. Hermione looked up at him sourly.

"Oh, please. As if you don't know."

"I don't, actually," said Sirius blandly as he perused the aisles with her, hands brushing against the fabrics he passed.

Hermione shook her head, and paused beside him to put her hands on her hips. "It is quite appalling when women twice your age ogle you as if you were—were some piece of freshly cut meat!"

Sirius let out a loose laugh. "Is  _that_  what's bothering you?"

"I never said it was bothering me," said Hermione quickly, averting her gaze to the clothes hanging on the stands.

Sirius hummed beside her, and replied nonchalantly, "Well, don't worry yourself over it, love. I manage to leave most stores with my innocence in tact, thank you very much."

Hermione gave him a sharp look, and he began to laugh again. "Honestly, Hermione. It doesn't bother me. I don't pay attention to it, and neither should you."

"How often has this been happening then, for you to grow so accustomed to it?" asked Hermione curiosity. "You were just fifteen last week, you know."

Sirius shrugged, not giving her a definitive answer. "Can't blame the ladies for appreciating what's pleasing to the eye. Can't blame the gentlemen either." Hermione's mouth dropped open at this, and Sirius grinned. "Don't think about this, Hermione. It's nothing. You should be worrying more about what you're wearing to the Christmas party."

At that, her attention was completely diverted, and Hermione let out a helpless groan. "I am absolutely rubbish at shopping for dresses," said Hermione wistfully. "It was never really my top priority when growing up."

"Ah yes, the little bookworm I know you are could never be bothered by things all the other girls fawn over," he noted dryly.

"It's not that I didn't  _want_ to," Hermione retorted. "I simply didn't have  _time_  to. And I just didn't care enough to try unless it was actually necessary."

Suddenly he reached over and picked up a dress by the hanger. "What about this?"

Hermione turned to him and inspected the dress he was holding up for her. "That's actually…not bad," Hermione admitted, and took the dress from him. It was a soft blue dress that reached down to her knees, cut at an angle that was quite stylish. "I think I'll try this one on."

Sirius gave a self-satisfied grin, and stretched. "Well, I think I've met my dress-hunting quota for the day," he announced. Hermione sighed and continued looking around, politely declining when a saleswoman offered to help her look for something.

Hermione had picked out three other dresses before taking leave to the dressing room, leaving Sirius sitting outside on the soft leather seat. She tried each on and stepped outside slightly to ask him what he thought, and was surprised when he gave it some serious thought and answered her honestly. They were all alright, but nothing that really satisfied her.

"If you could just tell me what people usually wear at this thing, I could narrow the search down," said Hermione with some irritation as she shucked off the creamy dress she had tried on. Through the door, she heard Sirius's lazy reply.

"Love, you don't  _want_  to know what the other people wear at this thing. Trust me, you're doing it right so far."

"Right," she muttered, averting her attention to the blue dress. With a sigh she slipped through it, and zipped the side quickly before turning to look at herself in the mirror.

What she saw was…quite nice.

"Well," Hermione breathed, turning to her side a little. "I guess you're the one."

Hermione quickly changed back into her clothes and held the blue dress under her arm as she approached Sirius. He seemed surprised to see her dressed normally again.

"You're not going to show me that one?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. "Don't want to spoil the surprise."

Hermione paid for the dress and the two finally exited the store. Sirius paused beside her. "Do you mind? I need to use the loo."

"Of course not," she replied, and leaned against the bricks of the building as Sirius reentered the clothing store.

Sighing quietly, Hermione gazed at the walking figures all around, and could not help but realize how…normal everything felt now. For the longest time she did not believe she would be able to truly adjust, to feel like she belonged in this era. But now…

"Don't run so fast, Charlie!"

It was as if ice had slipped through her veins and traveled all throughout her body. Frozen in shock, Hermione could only stare at the figures approaching her.

A little boy, no more than probably three years old, was darting towards the entrance to the shop she had just purchased a dress in. Behind him a slightly older boy followed quickly. Charlie's legs seemed to have moved faster than he could, and he quickly collided into Hermione's shins. She knelt down and helped him up gently, and the older boy touched his shoulder and asked him if he was alright.

A woman with flaming red hair ran to catch up with her children, slightly out of breath when she reached them. "Bill, make sure he doesn't try to run again, I don't want him to get hurt."

"Yes mummy," the older of the two boys replied dutifully, and grabbed little Charlie's hand firmly.

Hermione watched as they approached the door, and without another thought she reached over and held it open for them. The boys rushed inside, and the woman who she knew quite well to be Molly Weasley gave her a grateful smile.

"Thank you, dear," she said gratefully, giving her a gentle smile. Hermione nodded dumbly, and replied, "No problem," as she disappeared inside the store.

And just like that, she was reminded why she was here in the first place.

Neglecting. She was neglecting her purpose.  _Dress shopping_ , Hermione thought bitterly, gazing at the bag in her hand. Dumbledore would be so proud.

She heard the bells of the door chime, and suddenly Sirius was standing beside her.

"You ready to go?" he asked, and Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Opening them again, she looked up at Sirius and smiled.

"Yes. Let's go."

**xxx**

The short-lived encounter with Molly Weasley and her two elder sons had been a sort of wake-up call for Hermione. The winter holidays seemed to have given her a false sense of security, and it was a painful realization that the only progress she had made after four months of living in 1975 was simply finding one of Voldemort's horcruxes. She had no idea how to destroy it, and certainly had no clue how to move on, and that was alarming.

She considered first to ask to go to Diagon Alley again, for she remembered seeing some slightly useful books in a shop that could help her understand how to destroy a horcrux, though not in nearly enough detail she was sure. But with the party just a day away, she doubted Dorea Potter would be that magnanimous.

Going on her own was out of commission, for there was never a moment she was alone, and her absence would be immediately noticed should she decide to go on her own.

And thus, she was back to square one.

Hermione sat on her bed, frustration building inside of her. What on earth was she expected to do? It was entirely her fault, she knew; she squandered away half of her holidays sipping cocoa and enjoying herself. And once Sirius had arrived, she had not a moment's rest, for he had returned to his lively state and encouraged her to partake in every strange and silly activity he could think of with James, though nearly all of them ended with a stern lecture from Dorea.

At this point, she had to bide her time. After Christmas, perhaps things would get easier.

The night passed quickly, and Christmas Eve had arrived in full steam. The party was set, the gigantic hall that the Potters brought her to now fully prepared for the evening. It seemed that they owned this extravagant hall, and held nearly all their parties and events here like the nobility she knew they were.

A loud rap in the door of the bathroom brought Hermione's attention away from the mirror she was currently seated in front of, and she turned to face the door.

"In a minute," she called, and heard a loud sigh.

"Merlin's pants, Hermione, hurry up!" she heard James say in an exasperated tone. "The guests are already arriving!"

"Alright, alright!" Hermione looked at herself again, hands running through the mass of curls framing her face. She had attempted to tame them down, and managed a slightly less frizzy version of her hair than it usually was. Sighing, she pinned one side and then finally stood, giving a good look at the dress. Sirius truly did have stellar taste.

She ran to the door and took a steadying breath, then turned the knob. James was still there, and when she opened the door his eyes immediately fell on her.

"Holy hippogriff," he was all he managed to say, and reached out to pull down on one of her springy curls, which bounced back up immediately. A grin slid on his face. "Well, well, it looks like our Hermione can work a dress."

Hermione made a face. "I'm surprised you know how to even wear a suit."

"That's because he has a certain green-eyed genius to impress, am I right, James?" Sirius's voice entered the conversation as she saw him walk out of another bathroom. He turned to look at Hermione and he paused in his stride. His eyes traveled slowly down her, immediately bringing heat to her face. His eyes snapped back up to hers, and he resumed walking towards them.

"I guess I am glad you decided not to show me this in the fitting room. I rather like being pleasantly surprised."

She smiled slightly at his words, but her attention was diverted back to James when he grabbed her arm.

"Yes, yes, you two can stare at each other all you want, as long as it's downstairs. Let's  _go_ ," James urged, and walked down the large hallway towards the stairs. Hermione glanced up at Sirius.

"What you said before—do you mean that Lily is going to be here?" she inquired.

Sirius nodded. "Oh yes. James has been very excited—you can't tell though, he's trying very hard to be zen—I wouldn't have known if I hadn't seen the guest list that James was reading  _ever_  so fondly—"

"Shove it, Sirius," James quipped from in front of them, and Hermione smiled.

"Well either way, I'm glad I'll get to see her. I've missed her these past weeks."

Her eyes wandered over to Sirius, and she could not help but come to the realization that Sirius Black was simply one of those people who could wear a tattered plastic bag and still look ridiculously handsome.

The thought was...unsettling.

The descent down the staircase brought a wave of uplifting music and the cool chill of winter. What was once an empty hall was not a decorated, extravagant display of ice and crystal and silver, and a large ornate tree stood at the very center. She was immediately met by Remus and Peter, who had cleaned up rather nicely as well. Remus looked a little worse for wear, with shadows lingering under his eyes. But what his appearance lacked his enthusiasm made up for, and she reveled in the hearty embrace he gave her when she reached the bottom of the steps.

"You look lovely, Hermione," said Remus with a polite smile, his exuberant energy thinly veiled as Sirius and James clapped him on the shoulders. She knew he was itching to speak with his best friends, so Hermione grinned in reply and asked him if he knew if Lily had arrived yet.

"Yes, I think I saw her near the tree," he answered and Hermione nodded, leaving the Marauders to their devices. Giving Peter a friendly wave for good measure, she made her way through the massive hall.

Sirius had not been exaggerating when he mentioned the bizarre getup everyone at this party would be in. Dorea Potter's policy, it seemed, was a muggle-themed party; or at least, the attire was. And so all the witches and wizards were required to dress in muggle dresses and muggle tuxedos, and while the men had a slightly easier task at hand, it was the women that wore the most…interesting variety of clothes.

Hermione spotted a flash of red hair and made a beeline for it. Lily was wearing a modest and snug green dress, and she turned her head to see Hermione approaching her. A dazzling smile spread on her face as she met Hermione half way.

"And here I thought I wouldn't see you until the beginning of term," said Lily dryly.

Hermione shrugged, "Sorry to disappoint."

"How've you been so far?" Lily asked. "Potters treating you well?"

"Very," Hermione said firmly. "It's...very nice. I'm lucky to count them as family."

"I'm glad," Lily said genuinelly. Grinning, Lily looped her arm through Hermione's. "Where's that oaf of a brother of yours, then? I'm surprised he hasn't sought me out and sung a sonnet yet."

Hermione prevented the smile from stretching too widely on her lips, and gave another shrug. "He's with Sirius and the others. I'm sure you'll see him eventually."

Lily glanced at her wryly. "Well it's not like I'm  _waiting_ for it, you know; I'm just surprised. He pulls some kind of stunt every year during this party, each of which earns him a well-deserved kick."

"I wouldn't say  _every_  year, Evans," a voice sauntered towards them, and Lily turned to see James walking towards her.

Her eyebrows rose high. "My, my. Looks like you finally figured out how to wear that thing."

"It was bound to happen eventually," he said easily. The music change, and there was an immediate shift in atmosphere as several dozen people headed to the dance floor. "Would you accompany me with the first dance?"

"I'm not sure. Last time you stepped on all my toes," said Lily bluntly.

"I've had lessons since," said James mildly. "I would be very happy if you gave me the first dance."

He held out his hand, and Hermione had to give him credit where it was due. He was much more like his normal self, as he was around her and the rest of the Marauders. He was not flaunting his attraction to her, and Lily seemed to notice the slightly more serious demeanor. Without a hint of a smile, Lily placed her hand in his.

Hermione watched as the two walked to the floor and danced suavely. James certainly had not been lying about having lessons.

"Young love is a beautiful thing, is it not?"

Hermione turned to the voice, and her eyes rounded at the woman who stood beside her. She held out her hand kindly. "I never got to properly ask you for your name that day," the red-headed woman said with a smile. "I'm Molly Weasley."

"Hermione Granger," replied Hermione, slightly dazed as she shook the woman's hand. She should have known that the Weasleys would be attending this party, especially if it was muggle-themed. "Your children were very adorable when I saw them earlier."

"I'd say," she said with a grin, and Hermione did not realize just how truly young this Molly was. Her face was not marred by years of resilient hard work, raising her children and defending them against the dark forces surrounding her family. She was younger, livelier. It was heartbreaking. "I've got another on the way. My husband and I are thinking of calling him Percy."

"That's a wonderful name," she smiled.

"Come, let me introduce you to my husband—Arthur! Arthur, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

The walked up a man wearing mismatched pants and a blazer with similar flaming red hair. He turned around and gave Hermione a genuine smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Arthur kindly. "Dorea was just telling us all about you a few minutes ago!"

"Did she," said Hermione nervously, wondering what she might have told them.

"Oh, yes, yes! Heard you were muggleborn, and I must say I was pleased to hear so. Tell me, do you know how ecksalators work?"

"Er…"

"Honey, I doubt she knows these things, even for a muggleborn," said Molly gently. Her face instantly transformed into perplexity as she saw something in the distance. "Charlie! That's not food! Put that down!"

With a quick apology the two Weasleys parted, leaving Hermione alone in the grandeur hall.

Hermione began blinking rapidly.  _Overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed._

Hermione rushed towards an empty chair and sat down, breathing in deeply through her nose as she attempted to clear her thoughts. Meeting people she knew from her own time was inevitable, and definitely unavoidable. She knew it was going to happen. So why did this hurt so much?

The answer was so simple, Hermione nearly chuckled. Of course she was having difficulty seeing the two people she considered as close as her own family. For six years she had gotten to know the Weasleys, and even more, their children. To know that Ron was not going to be born for another six years was…a lot to grapple with.

She would never be their friend. A kind aunt maybe. But nothing like before.

"I can't say I'm surprised," a voice drawled, and Hermione looked up to see Sirius standing before her.

Hermione sighed. "Sorry."

"What for, love? For sitting?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "It just seems to be the right thing to say at any occasion."

Sirius took a seat beside her, staring off into the distance. "Just let it all sink in slowly," he said finally. Hermione glanced at him. "Enjoy the evening while you can. It only happens once a year."

Hermione looked away, and saw Molly holding up her youngest son in her arms with a smile. Her eyes wandered over to Remus and Peter, who were both chatting with several other people, and then finally to James and Lily, who were surprisingly still dancing.

Hermione looked at Sirius suddenly. "Would you like to dance?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "With you?"

Hermione gave him a look, and he grinned. "Why not? Just as long as you don't step on me with those heels of death you've got on there."

Hermione looked down in dismay. "It's barely an inch!"

He smiled wickedly. "Now you  _know_ you walked right into this."

"Sirius..." Hermione groaned.

"Because I can't say I've heard that one before."

Hermione glowered at as they walked onto the dance floor, and placed her hand on his shoulder. They swayed with the music, and Hermione smiled up at him. "Should I be surprised that you're good at this?"

"Absolutely not," said Sirius firmly. "You'll learn soon enough that being born in aristocracy brings a certain level of well-roundedness, dancing being one of them."

"And what else is there that you're good at?"

A smirk flitted across his face. "You'll just have to keep guessing." He sighed slightly, and looked up. "I do enjoy this song."

"You know what it is?" said Hermione with surprise. To be honest, she was amazed that whoever made the song selection this evening even knew which songs were currently popular in the muggle world.

"I wasn't called a rebel back home for nothing, you know," said Sirius wryly. "I would be dishonoring my reputation as a leather jacket-wearing miscreant if I couldn't recognize Bohemian Rhapsody when I heard it."

"Aren't you full of surprises," said Hermione with a small smile.

"Get to know me, love, and you might find something you like."

The song ended and Hermione stepped away. The remainder of the evening was spent eating the delicious food served in the dining hall and chatting amiably with her new friends.

And for a little while, she allowed herself to forget.

**xxx**

"The presents should already be under the tree…we could always…"

"No." Sirius and Hermione said simultaneously as they stepped out of the fireplace and back into the living room of the Potter residence.

"I'm going straight to sleep," said Hermione, taking note of the time. Two o'clock in the morning.

"That sounds like a plan," mumbled Sirius, trailing behind her as she forced her way up the stairs.

Hermione trudged to her room and threw her shoes on the floor. With a last shred of strength, she slipped out of her dress and threw an oversized shirt over her head. She was just reaching for her pajamas when the door knocked.

"Hermione, you left this on the bathroom," said Sirius as he held out a small purse to her.

Hermione gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Sirius."

"No problem." He flashed a grin, and his eyes flickered down. "Put on some clothes, you silly—"

His words died on his lips, his eyes staring at her leg. Hermione frowned.

"What?"

Her eyes flickered to his, and then to her legs…and then she knew.

Sirius looked up at her, eyes swirling with an unreadable emotion. His face was a myriad of confusion and recognition, and suddenly Hermione felt trapped.

"That scar," he said quietly. "I know that scar. On your knee."

Hermione turned away and quickly shrugged into her pajamas. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said dismissively. "Everyone has scars."

"Not ones like that."

"I'm tired, Sirius," said Hermione, and turned to him slowly. "Please, I need to get some sleep."

"Why are you avoiding it?" Hermione watched him as he drew closer to her. "Let me see it again."

"No." Hermione turned to her bed.

"Let me see it, Hermione."

"No, Sirius! Go to sleep, you're very tired," she was about to pull her covers back when Sirius grabbed her arm and whirled her around, causing Hermione to gasp.

"You know!" he said incredulously. "You know, and you know I recognize it. I recognize  _you_." He shook his head, and narrowed his eyes. "I didn't believe it at first when I saw you. You looked so much like her. And now I know why."

For the first time in a long time, fear was burrowing in her heart. Her eyes were wide as she stared into grey eyes, her heart thundering under her chest.

_He knows. He knows. He knows._

Was it so bad that he knew?

Her mind automatically replied to the distant thought.  _He's not ready to know yet._

But it was too late. She had slipped, and by something she did not even think Sirius would remember. And now, she did not know what to do.

She tried to free herself from his grasp, but he was not having any of it. Her wand was on her dresser, much too far away for her to try anything. Not that attacking Sirius Black was something she ever wanted to do.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Despair was filling inside of her, and she spoke against her better judgment. "Please," she whispered to him desperately. "Please."

His eyes narrowed, but paused when James showed up at the door. "Why are you two still awake?" asked James blearily. He looked at Sirius and Hermione, frowning. "Is everything alright?"

Hermione looked up at him then, her eyes pleading with his. He stared at her for a long moment, before slowly releasing her arm and stepping back from her.

"Just saying goodnight to Hermione," said Sirius impassively, and headed to the door. James shrugged and left, and Sirius placed his hand on her door before turning around to meet her in the eyes.

"Tomorrow, you're going to tell me who you are," he said softly. "And if not, then that's okay. I have the next two years to find out."

He closed the door behind him, and never before had Hermione felt more frightened.

_If one thing fixes, another thing breaks._


	9. The Leaky Cauldron

The soft halo of early dawn emanated from the window, casting dark blue and pink shadows inside the bedroom, but Hermione barely took notice.

There were many things she wanted to do, so many things she  _had_  to do. Find the horcruxes. Figure out how to destroy them. Attempt to be an Animagus, as she knew the Marauders were probably trying to be already. Stop Voldemort. Save the world.

It sounded very silly when she listed it in her head like that. How could anyone be expected to accomplish such a feat without fail?

Was this how Harry felt?

Hermione had felt, at the time, that she understood him. She was always looking at the bigger picture, though; she tried to show Harry that it was  _meant_  to be, it was meant to be  _him_. He had saved the Sorcerer's Stone, killed a basilisk, and destroyed Tom Riddle's diary; he fought off a hundred Dementors, battled with Voldemort during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and fought in the Department of Mysteries all by the time he was fifteen. How could that even be possible? How, for someone still learning in Hogwarts, could so much expectation, so much responsibility, be placed on a boy not even of age?

And how silly she felt, Hermione thought suddenly, that she believed she could do it as well.

Hermione realized she never understood Harry at all. Nobody had. She was just glad that she was there for him when he needed her, glad that she could alleviate some of his burden when the time called for it. She only wished she had the same.

Sleep evaded Hermione the entire night. What was once bone-deep lethargy was now a whirlpool of fear and anxiety. Everything,  _everything_  just had to go wrong when regarding her. It would have made her laugh, if it did not have such serious implications.

The dress she had worn just hours ago was still lying on the floor. She sat on the bed, her back against the wall, facing the window above her desk, and her mind simply refused to stop thinking.

What to do, what to do.

The holidays were winding down to an end. After next week she would be back at Hogwarts, with about as much work on the horcrux completed since she arrived at the Potter residence. There were several things she had to see to, to work on, but all of it required for Hermione to be on her own outside without an escort, something she was certain Dorea Potter would simply not allow.

The Sirius debacle also put a severe damper on her plans. Hermione blinked rapidly, trying not to let herself think about it deeply again. There was nothing she could do, or could have done. Now, she had to rearrange her plans and figure out what to do.

What  _could_  she do?

Should she tell him the truth? It was unavoidable now, was it not?

The thought made Hermione cringe. There was no way she could tell…no, he would be devastated. And judging from the emotional wreck Sirius had been these past few months, she doubted Sirius would be able to handle knowing the truth of the future. That his best friends were killed. That he was incarcerated for twelve years. That he was killed right in front of his godson's eyes…

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and drew her knees closer to her chest. No. He was not ready for that. She needed time, but he needed closure. What could she do?

Her thoughts came to a halt when the sound of a tapping against her window drew her attention. Blinking wearily, Hermione squinted through the hazy darkness and saw an owl pecking insistently at the glass. Frowning, Hermione rushed to the window and unlatched it, gently stroking its dark feathers while untying the letter from its leg.

It gave a calculating hoot, silken black feathers ruffling importantly, and jumped off into the night air, leaving Hermione slightly dazed as she watched it disappear from sight. Furrowing her brow, she stared at the unmarked letter in her hands, and quietly closed the window.

It was light in her grasp, but the paper felt finer than normal parchment. Shaking her head, she opened it and took out a single slip of paper.

Her eyes widened as she read the succinct words.

_I found you._

_Now it's your turn. Leaky Cauldron, tonight._

The handwriting was appallingly neat and flourished, and a little insignia was stamped on the back. Hermione shook her head. He didn't even bother writing his initial, knowing full well that Hermione would recognize the letter from him. Smarmy little toad.

It trembled slightly in her hand. Why for the life of her had she even started this game with Regulus?

She understood her part. She wanted him to see the light earlier, to allow him to see past the glorified stature of Voldemort and his followers that he so avidly pursues and realize that blood purity meant absolutely nothing in reality. But what was Regulus's part? Why was  _he_  pursuing this? Why was he adamant on playing this game, sharing his secret, when he knew her loyalty would never waver?

Either way, she had to go. If not to see Regulus, then to find something to help her with the horcruxes as well. And, if she was lucky, she might be able to find Xenophilius Lovegood and inquire about the mysterious deaths that James so prudently had been documenting for several months.

All of this, of course, was contingent upon Hermione's ability to leave the house unnoticed.

Breathing deeply through her nose, Hermione folded the letter and placed it inside the drawer of her desk. It was time to take action.

**xxx**

"You seem quiet today, Hermione. Is something the matter?"

Sirius lifted his eyes from his plate of breakfast, giving Hermione a fleeting glance before reaching over to the glass of orange juice and taking a large swig. Hermione straightened in her seat, smiling as brightly as she could muster.

"Just tired from last night," she answered with a small smile, and Dorea nodded understandingly. Hermione dared not glance in Sirius's direction, though she knew his gaze was fixated on her through the intervals of their meal. She finished quickly and rose from her seat, picking up the dishes as she pushed in her chair.

"Oh, darling, you really don't—" Dorea started.

"It's fine," Hermione replied quickly, flashing a smile. "I'm used to this, remember?" Without another word, she headed to the kitchen and greeted the house elves, putting the dishes in the sink. Normally she would have washed them herself, but to spare the risk of making the house elves burst into tears, she resisted.

Her mind kept racing with thoughts of how to get out of the house, and Hermione knew she was already at a bad start. The Potters had already caught on her pensive mood, and James had noticed the piercing looks Sirius kept glancing in her direction. More than once James gave her a questioning look, and Hermione would shake her head.

"Damn him," she cursed as she went to leave the kitchen, "Damn, damn, damn—oh! Hello." Hermione jumped when the door swung open to reveal Sirius holding his own plate.

"Hermione," Sirius said, giving her a fleeting look before setting his plates on a nearby counter. "It seems you've started a new tradition here."

Hermione's mind went blank. What did he mean? Sirius raised an eyebrow and Hermione nearly smacked her head. "Oh r-right. The plates. Well, nothing wrong with cleaning up after yourself, right?"

"You seem to think as much."

Hermione faltered at the double meaning behind his words, and looked away. "Well, I'll see you around." Briskly she pushed past him and exited the kitchen, sprinting up the staircase until she reached her room. Heart pounding, she closed the door pressing her back against it. This was going to be much harder than she thought.

Next door, however, there was similar consternation.

"You okay there, mate?"

Sirius did not bother opening his eyes, his hands folded behind his head as he lay on his bed. "Yeah, Prongs. I'm ace."

"You don't look it." Sirius felt the mattress jump as James sprawled next to him boisterously. " _I'm waiting_ ," James sang, and Sirius curled his lip in distaste but said nothing. "Is it about our lady friend?" James's voice was teasing, and Sirius opened an eye to look at him sternly. "Oye, no need for the stink eye," James raised his hands in defense, "I just want to know what's gotten my best mate brooding up in his room when we could out be making the best of this weather."

Sirius closed his eye again, heaving a sigh. "Just thinking, James. Things have been very odd lately, and I'm trying to make sense of it."

"About what?"

Sirius glanced at James and opened his mouth, but thought better against it. Frustrated, he sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "When I figure it out, I'll tell you," he snapped.

James looked affronted but said nothing. Sirius rubbed his jaw and shook his head, "Hey, I'm sorry I snapped. It's been a rough night."

James looked over Sirius contemplatively. "You know I'm just messing with you, right? If you need anything, you know I'll always help you out."

Sirius felt guilt wash over him as he turned to look at James. "I know, mate. I know."

His thoughts redirected to Hermione, and part of him went cold inside. The witch who was not what she seemed. Last night he had discovered a part of her that she was desperately trying to keep hidden, and Sirius would not stop until he had sorted it all out. For her sake he was giving her a chance to explain, giving her  _time_.

Who was Hermione Granger, and what was she hiding from the world?

The hypocrisy of Sirius's silence on the matter was overwhelming. He could not keep this from James, or from Remus and Peter. They had a right to know…they were family. And promise or not, he had a right to protect his family.

"Tell you what," said Sirius suddenly, catching James's attention. "There's a fresh layer of snow out today. I'll owl Remus and Peter, and we can sled down Baker Street. What do you say?"

James gave a critical look before splitting into a wide smile. "Sounds like a plan, Pads. Onward!" He vaulted up and headed out of the room, and Sirius frowned when he saw where he was going. "James, wait—"

James paid no heed and marched to the room near the stairs, and knocked loudly. "Hermione! Open up, I've got a proposition!"

" _James—_ "

The door opened before Sirius could say more, and Hermione stood nervously in her room. "Yes?"

"We're going sledding in a few. Wanna come?"

"She can't," Sirius interjected, and James gave a look. "Can't? Of course she can; I know she doesn't have the proper clothes or equipment but I'm sure Mum wouldn't be opposed to us getting her a few things—"

" _She's not coming with us, James_."

James looked stunned, and Hermione's eyes had gone wide. Very softly she replied, "It's okay, I'm not feeling well today. Perhaps some other time." Without another word, she closed the door.

James rounded on Sirius, "What the hell was that? Why were you being such a pissing arse to her?"

"This is for  _us_ , James," said Sirius flatly, heading to his room once more. "You'll understand soon."

James shook his head in dismay. "She's my sister now, Sirius. You can't exclude her like that. I thought you were better than this."

Sirius pressed his mouth in a thin line and gave James a hard, meaningful look. "You'll understand soon, James. Go owl Remus and Peter."

**xxx**

Hermione peered out her window as she heard the door downstairs slam close. Sirius and James were wrapped up for the cold and snowy weather, the latter holding what appeared to be an old sled, with bits of the paint chipped off the sides. Sirius was walking a few paces behind him, his hands tucked in his pockets and his posture impeccably nonchalant. She watched them until they disappeared around the corner, leaving behind a trail of heavy footprints embedded in the snow.

Once out of sight, Hermione rushed to her desk and pulled out bits of parchment and ink and a russet-colored quill, and threw them inside a small purse. She grabbed the letter that was hidden inside her drawer and paused, looking at it contemplatively. Should Hermione destroy it? Though it had no name or label, anyone who knew Regulus's handwriting would be appalled at finding the letter in her possession.

Her hand moved to tear it apart, but a small thought entered her mind and stilled her hands. What if she needed this as some sort of proof, once she arrived at the Leaky Cauldron? Slytherins were pernicious and scheming, and Hermione knew that there was more to this than the surface told. Biting her lip, Hermione tucked it inside her purse. With a snap she closed it and set the bag on her table.

It was by a pure stroke of luck that Sirius and James were not going to be home much today. The timing was perfect, and it spared Hermione several dreadful ideas where she would have to sneak out of the Potter residence and meet Regulus in secret. Just the thought of it made her shudder.

And yet, a part of her was extremely nervous at the outcome. Why had Sirius been so vehement on not having Hermione come with them? He had promised he would give her time to explain who she was, and Sirius was not one to break his word…but lying to all of his friends for the sake of one witch was not something Sirius was likely to do either.

A sinking feeling filled Hermione, and she closed her eyes.  _Please don't tell anyone yet._

Taking a deep breath, Hermione ventured out of her room and sought out Dorea Potter. She found her sitting in the parlor, a cup of tea in her hands and a book splayed open her lap. Dorea noticed her presence and smiled. "Hermione!"

"Dorea," she greeted kindly. Mustering up as much calmness as she could, Hermione asked, "I need some supplies for the new term, and I was wondering if I could go to Diagon Alley today?"

Dorea looked momentarily surprised, but nodded. "Of course! Anything you need, darling." She frowned suddenly. "But Sirius and James have already left…hmm…"

"I can go by myself," Hermione said quickly. "It's just a fireplace away."

Dorea shook her head. "No, no dear. It's too dangerous for young witches to be out alone these days. Especially  _you_ , dear. No, I'm afraid you cannot go without an escort…"

Hermione's heart sank, and her mind started racing to alternative ways to get out of the house, when Dorea said suddenly, "I will come with you!"

Hermione's eyes went round. "You? N-no, Dorea, it's okay, really—"

"Nonsense! You said you needed some supplies, and who am I to impede on your educational needs? Let me just put on my cloak and scarf, dear, and we'll go together." Dorea smiled widely as she set the cup and book down on the small table before her, and rushed out of the parlor. "Put on some warm clothes, Hermione! It's quite chilly out!"

"Alright," said Hermione half-heartedly, and she went up to her bedroom feeling more dreadful than before.

**xxx**

Hermione glanced around nervously as Dorea led the way inside Diagon Alley. "I've been meaning to get some self-pruning shears for some time now…do you think they would have it in Malkin's?"

"It's possible," said Hermione weakly as she trailed behind the elderly Potter.

"I haven't been successful in finding those blasted shears, and I've been looking for ages now—may as well enchant a pair of my own and be done with it! But Charlus, bless his heart, reminds me far too often that our contribution to society depends on purchasing from vendors here; not everyone is as fortunate as us…"

Hermione nodded absently as they passed the Leaky Cauldron. Was he already there? How was she to divert herself from Dorea?

Clearing her throat, Hermione said loudly, "I'll be in the paper shop down there to get some things. I'll meet you by Madam Malkin's in an hour?"

Dorea glanced at her briefly and nodded. "Oh, yes, yes. Of course dear. I remember my youth very well—being seen with family can be embarrassing for the adolescent generation—"

"No, you misunderstood, I'm not asham—"

"On with it, then! Get everything that you need," Dorea patted Hermione gently on her left cheek and walked away, disappearing in the large crowd of wizards and witches.

Hermione sighed, quickly going inside the supplies shop and purchasing a few rolls of parchment and a new bottle of ink. Just as quickly she exited the shop, and checked the time. Quarter to five. It was already growing steadily dark outside, and Hermione clenched her hands together.

"Okay," she murmured to herself. " _Okay._  Time to go." Steeling herself, Hermione entered the Leaky Cauldron.

The dimly lit pub and grill was unusually packed with people. She heard the clanging of glasses and loud cheers, and more than once she tripped as she moved through the mass of customers. Her eyes searched for the familiar face of the younger Black, but to no avail.

"Seriously?" Hermione gritted her teeth. "How long am I supposed to—" she trailed when she heard a familiar boisterous voice.

"I told you she ain' coming," a boy with long hair tied behind his head said a few paces away from her. He slung his arm over another boy sitting beside him, who appeared to be Regulus Black. "Them girls—fickle things—like messin' with honorable men's heads—"

"I don't  _fancy_  her," Regulus growled, shoving off the arm around his shoulders.

"Yeah and me mum is a eight-legged horse—"

"Why are you even here, Scabior? I didn't ask for you to join me."

"Don't need to ask. I got senses of a snake," Scabior tapped the side of his head. "And I knew you was up to something. You know how Avery gets when you run off on your own."

"He's not my damn keeper, and neither are you," Regulus hissed. Hermione, having heard enough, stepped forward and cleared her throat. Both heads shot up to look at her, and Scabior's face split into a wide grin. "Aye, you made it!"

"I'm not here for long," said Hermione brusquely. "And I'm here to speak with Regulus."

"I knew that," Scabior shrugged. "Nothing wrong with a little extra company, though—"

"She means leave, Scabey.  _Now_."

Scabior gave a mock-hurt look to Regulus and rolled his eyes. "Aright, aright, I know when I'm not wanted…" He rose from his seat and slinked away, shooting an amused glance as he settled himself on a bar stool.

"You can sit," said Regulus bluntly. Hermione shot him a glare and sat down, folding her hands in her lap. "I didn't think you'd come, actually."

"Why is that?"

"Dunno. After what's happened, I don't know what to expect anymore."

Hermione frowned at the cryptic words. "Look, I can't stay for long. Why did you bring me here?"

"You wanted to know things, and I'm just being the good Samaritan and helping you out."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No, it's more than that. You are in Slytherin, your family is—well, what they are, and you wanted to meet a muggleborn alone in a pub? All to share your dirty, dark secret?"

"I like games, Granger," said Regulus as he leaned back in his chair. "And this one with you has been the best I've had in months. You can't fault me for wanting a little more fun." He inspected his nails briefly, and Hermione suppressed a groan of frustration.

"Could you be more cryptic! And stop treating me like—like your personal brand of amusement!"

"But you  _are_ , Hermione. Dearest Hermione Granger: the Gryffindor in disguise."

Hermione blinked. "You keep saying that. What on earth does it mean?"

"I know a lot more than you think," Regulus leaned towards her, propping his elbow on the table. "No innocent witch becomes this fascinated with Dark magic. No, you are no Gryffindor—perhaps by choice, but not by heart."

"That's utterly ridiculous. Are you even listening to yourself?"

"Are  _you_? You never answered me before—you saw what that necklace could do by the lake. You knew it was no ordinary wizardry. And yet, you said nothing. Does that not give me indication on your true intentions?"

Hermione pressed her mouth in a thin line. "I said nothing because there's an explanation behind that necklace. One I'm still waiting for."

"And what will you do once I tell you? Will you run off to Dumbledore and spill nasty Regulus Black's hidden secrets?"

"No," said Hermione, her tone becoming grave. "I will make you realize how horrible it is to do what you are doing."

Regulus threw back his head and laughed. "Granger, my own  _brother_  couldn't sway my loyalties. You think you can do it?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

Regulus paused. Slowly his eyes hardened and his upper lip curled into a sneer. "Indeed."

**xxx**

"I think this sled is faulty."

"No, you're just the idiot who thought plowing through a mountain of snow would be a good idea. Enchanted sled or not, you're still a dumbass."

James growled as he staggered to his feet, brushing the snow from his face. Sirius was leaning against an adjacent tree with his arms folded over his chest, a smirk plastered on his face. "Remus, Sirius is being a cod. Do something."

Remus Lupin, who had been watching the exchange beside Peter, merely shrugged. "He's got a point."

Peter and Sirius chuckled. "What great friendship you've shown me, Moony," James sulked. His expression changed as he diverted his gaze to Sirius. "Although it's still a fat load better than someone else's friendship here."

"What do you mean?" Remus frowned. He followed James's gaze to Sirius, who was looking away. "What happened?"

"Nothing of great consequence," was Sirius's reply.

"Nothing of—you slighted Hermione! You didn't let her come with us! What the hell was that about?"

Remus frowned. "Is that true?"

"I have my reasons," said Sirius defensively.

"Do explain them, mate. You called us all here, didn't you? You said this was a private affair," James glared at Sirius. "On with it, then."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but found himself unable to formulate the right words. "It's complicated," he finally said slowly. "It's ridiculous, and I'm still…I don't know what's going on exactly, but I don't think we should trust Hermione."

"Why?" asked Peter. He appeared mousy, almost hesitant to speak, but he quickly harnessed a shred of courage as he spoke his mind. "Why, when she has done nothing to deserve our censure?"

"There's something offabout her," Sirius shook his head vehemently. "I don't know what, but I know she's not who she says she is. We don't know her, we know  _of_  her—"

"She has been nothing but kind this entire term," Remus murmured. "She has proven to be…a valuable friend. A kind, honest woman."

"And how do you know she is being honest?"

James stepped forward. "What has she done to change your opinion of her so quickly, Sirius? Merlin, just last night you were making eyes with each other at the Christmas party. And now you can barely look at her."

"Because I know she is hiding something." Sirius's voice had gone cold, brittle. He gazed at his three best friends, wishing they could understand what he was trying to convey. "I don't know what it is. I knew I'd seen her before when we first met her on the train…and I'm feeling more and more convinced that I have."

"Sirius…"

"Damn it, James!" Sirius exclaimed. He looked upon Remus and Peter, who were staring at Sirius in disbelief. "Why can't you trust me on this? You've known me for years; you know I would never say these things unless I had reason to!"

James gazed at him for a long moment. Slowly he sighed, running his hand through his untamed hair and causing several bits of snow to sprinkle down. "Alright," he said softly. " _Alright_. If you say this is serious, then it's serious. You know I trust you."

Sirius let out a sigh. "Thank you."

"If we need to be on guard of her," Remus said slowly, "I fear it is too late for us. She knows my secret, Sirius. If she is as untrustworthy as you make her out to be…we are already in some serious trouble."

"Don't you worry," said Sirius gravely. "She knows I know there's something she's hiding. I can keep an eye on her."

Remus and James looked away pensively, and Peter continued to frown.

**xxx**

"That's ridiculous."

"It's not."

"Are you hearing yourself? I thought Blacks were supposed to be all mighty and clever."

"We are; I  _am_."

Hermione snorted. "From what you just told me? I doubt it."

"You find humor in this?"

"It's a bit hard not to."

Regulus pounded his fist on the table, causing Hermione to jump in her seat. "You  _will_  take me seriously," he hissed.

Hermione's amused expression quickly darkened to a scowl. "You can't tell me what to do, or how to feel. What you told me is utter insanity, and I'm being honest about it."

"This is how it has been for centuries," growled Regulus. "I am following the path of providence and creation."

"You are following the path to you death! You—you used  _black magic_ , Regulus!" Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper so none could overhear them. "Your stupid experiment with the damned necklace was your rite of passage, and you nearly died trying to achieve that!"

"You're being dramatic," said Regulus boredly, leaning back in his seat.

"I'm being realistic. Nothing is worth dabbling in such…such hateful magic. It's corrupting, Regulus."

"And what do you care if I am corrupted? Why are you trying to redeem me?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "The same reason you even told me about this. Because there's still a chance to change."

Regulus stared at her for a long while. Something shifted in the way he gazed at her, and Hermione held her breath.

"How is my brother?"

Hermione blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Pardon?"

"Sirius. How is he?"

Regulus was looking at her with earnest interest, though a shadow had fallen over his eyes. Hermione sighed quietly. "He's alright. Was a bit banged up when he showed up, though." Regulus looked away, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "What did they do to him, Regulus?" Hermione asked carefully. "Why was he so hurt?"

Regulus looked at her slowly. She almost did not think he would answer, especially not something so private, thus she was surprised when he did. "They gave him a choice," he answered softly. "One that every Black family member has made. One that will be asked of me as well. And Sirius…" he trailed off, closing his eyes. "He chose the side they did not like."

Hermione bit her lip. She remembered Sirius saying something similar, but it was still extremely vague and did not explain very much. "And after knowing all this," said Hermione finally, "after knowing just how utterly  _insane_  this whole affair is…you're still going to go for it?"

Regulus lowered his eyes, idly tracing patterns on the wooden table between them. "It is all that I know."

Hermione suppressed a long-heaving sigh. Why was he so damn stubborn? Regulus was no fool—he knew what was happening around him and what he was doing to contribute to the evil stirring in the air. Yet why did he persist? All for the sake of family honor and glory?

Perhaps if she had been given more time, she could have gotten more information from Regulus and his bewitched necklace (although at this point she felt she knew everything she needed to), but she would never find out; for right then, Scabior drew towards their table in the corner of the pub and drummed his fingers along the wooden top. "Time's up, Reggie. We ought to leave now."

Hermione almost spoke but thought better of it, giving Regulus a grim look as he stood. "Another time, Granger. I have a feeling you are not completely satisfied."

"I could say the same for you," said Hermione loftily. Regulus smirked and turned to leave. Scabior gave her a fleeting look, a small smile tugging in the corner. "I'll be seeing you soon."

"For your sake I hope not," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Hermione waited until they left. Quickly she stood up, straightened her cloak, and headed to the exit. It was nearly six, and she feared she had stayed too long in the Leaky Cauldron. As she walked into the chilled air, she squinted to search for Dorea Potter.

A hand clamped around her shoulder, and Hermione turned around. "There you are!" Dorea said in relief. "I've been looking for you for five minutes, dear. Do you have everything you needed?"

"Yes," replied Hermione with a small smile. "Yes, I believe I have."

"Well come quickly then, dear! It isn't safe to be out in the dark like this, Merlin knows what skulks about these streets at this hour…"

The journey back home was quick and uneventful. Hermione sagged in relief when she stepped out of the fireplace, stripping off her cloak and wet socks, and collapsing against the sofa. Dorea chuckled and took off her emerald cloak as well, hanging it on the stand to dry.

Just then the door swung open, and in marched James and Sirius with equally weary expressions. "Mum, I'm  _starving_ ," complained James as he flung off his cloak and heavy snow boots. "When do you think supper will be ready?"

"In a few, love, we've only just arrived as well," Dorea sighed tiredly, taking a seat beside Hermione.

"You went out?" asked Sirius, eyeing Hermione closely. Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes, Hermione needed some things from the shop. Quills and inks—you know, scholarly things. Oh, Hermione," said Dorea, shifting to face her. "You did get the Everlasting Ink, right?"

"O-oh, I'm not sure—"

"Show me then; if we go back tomorrow we'll still get a discount if we return it…"

Hermione nodded and withdrew her pack, fumbling inside and reaching for the boxed ink bottle. She took it from her purse quickly, not noticing a small slip of paper falling out and tumbling to the floor.

Dorea inspected the box and nodded. "Good girl. This will do well over the year. Now," Dorea handed the box back to Hermione and rose from her seat, "I will ring up the house-elves, and tell them to prepare for our next meal. You three get yourselves cleaned up; I don't want mud tracks all over my carpet."

They nodded in unison, and a quiet fell over the trio as they sat and stood awkwardly in the living room.

Hermione stood and headed to the stairwell without a word, and James watched her leave silently. He turned to Sirius with a frown. "This doesn't feel right."

"I know, mate. It's just—"

"Yeah, I got it the first time. Well, we can be superstitious of her and still talk to her normally, right?" James answered with a shrug. "But still. We can't let her feel alienated."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "You're right, of course. We should still be kind to her."

James gave Sirius a hard look before standing to his feet. "When this is over, and you realize your suspicions of her were complete horse dung, I expect a large and earnest apology. Not to me," James said tersely when Sirius began nodding. "To her."

James left then, and Sirius sighed tiredly. "It is not as if I  _want_  to be like this to her."

Shaking his head, Sirius began to head towards the stairs as well, when a sliver of fallen paper on the ground caught his eye. Frowning, Sirius walked towards it and bent down, grasping it between his long fingers and flicking the folded paper open.

Slowly, Sirius folded the slip of paper and tucked it inside his pocket.

**xxx**

Dinner was a quiet affair. Charlus Potter came in from work fairly early, and together they dined amiably. Hermione was surprised at how little James was speaking, and no less to her. Normally he was always contributing to conversation, making fun and loudly exclaiming the wrongs done unto him. Yet tonight, he was silent.

Hermione shifted nervously in her seat, casting surreptitious glances at Sirius. A feeling of dread filled Hermione. Had he told James? Had he told Remus and Peter?

It made sense, considering how adamant Sirius had been in excluding her in the sledding trip.

Losing her appetite, Hermione bid the party good night and headed to her room.

No less than fifteen minutes passed before a quiet knock sounded on the door. Hermione's heart began to pound. This was it. The ultimatum she had been expecting.

Perhaps if she feigned sleep, he would go away? Scrunching her eyes closed, Hermione waited for him to leave. "I know you're awake Hermione. Open up or I'll open it myself."

Cringing, Hermione slipped off the bed and quietly opened the door. Sirius was leaning against the frame, his hands in his pockets. "Sirius," said Hermione in tired desperation. "Please. You have to let this go. Give me  _time_."

"Are you going to let me in?"

Biting her lip, Hermione opened the door to allow him passage. He sauntered in slowly, and Hermione closed the door. Sirius was inspecting her table, picking up things at random and tossing it lightly in the air before setting it back down. Hermione sat down on her mattress, waiting.

"So," said Sirius, pulling out her swiveling chair and taking a seat on it. "Tell me who you are, again."

"Hermione Granger."

"And where are you from, Hermione Granger?"

Hermione pressed her lips in a thin line. "England."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Stop the theatrics. There is something you are hiding, Hermione, and if it puts my family and my friends in danger,  _I_   _will find out._ "

"There is nothing I can tell you," Hermione said emphatically. "Not right now. It's not time yet."

"Yet? So you admit it, then?"

"Admit what?"

"You're a dabbler of Dark Arts. Why else would you meet my brother in private?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Wh…how do you…"

Sirius casually reached in his pocket and withdrew a slip of parchment. Hermione's mind went numb. "I know this insignia like I know the back of my hand. And my brother's handwriting always was better than mine, shame…"

"It's not like that," Hermione rose from her seat and strode towards Sirius. "Please, believe me—I was just trying to help him—"

" _Help_ him? Your lies are growing thin, Granger."

"I'm telling the truth!" cried Hermione.

"Tell me who you are! Tell me what you are doing with my brother, with James, with Remus, with Peter!"

" _I can't!_ "

Sirius rose from the chair and towered over her. "I will find you out. I will protect my family."

"I'm not trying to hurt anyone, Sirius," Hermione pleaded. "I'm only trying to help."

Sirius gazed at her, shaking his head. "I think you really believe that," said Sirius quietly. "But you are a liar, Hermione Granger. You lied to me, your friends, and today you lied to your adoptive mother. I cannot trust you."

Hermione closed her eyes, her mouth trembling. She stumbled back on her bed, and after a few moments she heard the door open. Sirius left.

She was startled when she felt a hand press against her shoulder. James was standing beside her, a forlorn expression on his face.

"James," she said gratefully.

"Hermione," said James in an odd voice, and Hermione paused. Sighing, she looked away.

"He's told you, hasn't he."

"Not much. But enough to know what is going on."

Hermione looked up at James desperately. "You have to know I'm not trying to hurt anyone. You  _have_ to know me better than that."

"Hermione…" James murmured sadly. "I believe you. I truly do. But…Sirius has a point. We don't know you at all, really. And…considering your entire circumstances…"

Hermione looked away, nodding shakily. "Of course. A girl with a secret is always suspicious."

After a long pause, James patted the top of Hermione's bushy head. "You're still my sister, Hermione."

She could not look at him, and James removed his hand. "Good night. You should probably start packing to go back to Hogwarts next week."

"Okay."

The door closed softly, and Hermione felt the tears she had been repressing for so long finally spill over her cheeks. Shaking her head, she wiped them quickly away and strode to her desk. Taking out a roll of parchment, she began to write fervently:

_Dear Severus,_

_I believe you were quite right. Spending the holidays at the Potters was positively dreadful. How I mourn my decision to leave Hogwarts for Christmas vacation; I would much rather have stayed with you…_

**xxx**

"You look peaky, Hermione. Are you sure you're alright?" Lily asked in concern.

Hermione forced a smile. "I'm fine, Lily. Just tired from the holidays, is all."

Lily nodded, glancing out the train's window. "Funny, I would've thought James'd be in here rattling away about me, considering how surprisingly well out dance went last week."

"If it is any consolation, he did mention it once or twice…or twenty times at home."

Lily suppressed a grin, and straightened in her seat. "Well. He just got lucky, usually he's dreadful at dancing." She squinted out the window. "I see the castle now. We should change into our robes, I think."

Hermione and Lily dressed in the Hogwarts attire and felt the train slow to a smooth stop. Hermione followed after Lily, grabbing her trunk and stepping onto the wet, snow-slick pavement. A few paces behind her she saw the Marauders, dragging their trunks behind them. Her heart sank when they saw her and glanced away, pushing towards the castle. Only Peter hesitated, giving her a small smile and a gentle wave. Hermione smiled back, but the damage had already been done.

The total alienation from people she was good friends with hurt her horribly. She knew Sirius and Remus in the future, and to see such a look of indifference when glancing at her…

Hermione gritted her teeth and rushed towards the castle. Pushing past several students, she entered the Entrance Hall and looked around desperately. A flash of long, slick hair caught her eye and immediately she began to run. Severus was standing near the staircase, looking about the other students with disdain. He caught her eye and his countenance brightened, smiling. "Hermione! Is Lily with you too? I—"

He did not finish as Hermione's lower lip trembled and she once again threw her arms around Severus's shoulders. She clung to him tightly, finding relief in one of the few people she could still call a friend.

"Hermione, are you alright? I got your letter just last night, I—why are you shaking?" He withdrew from her, holding her firmly by the shoulders. "What is wrong?" His eyes darkened as she shook her head speechlessly. "It was Potter, wasn't it? Or his damned lackeys. What did they do, Hermione?"

"It was just a really bad vacation, Severus," said Hermione tiredly. "A really, really, bad vacation."

Her eyes were thankfully dry so Severus did not inquire further, and allowed her to step forward and embrace him again. His arms looped around her securely and she heard footsteps draw near. Closing her eyes, she buried her face into Severus's chest.

"What's wrong?" It was Lily, whispering.

She felt Severus shrug helplessly. "Dunno."

"She was looking off through the entire train ride here…"

"Must be Potter…I'm telling you…"

The voices drowned out as Hermione let her mind drift. Perhaps it was time she faced the reality of things. She could never truly befriend anyone here. Her entire stay in the past had led her to misfortune after misfortune, and it was because she kept straying from her task.

As Hermione withdrew from Severus's arms, she gazed at him with a new critical look.

Perhaps her success in destroying a horcrux really did not lie with the Gryffindors. Perhaps what she really needed was a Slytherin.

And Severus, who was already knowledgeable in the Dark Arts…could he have knowledge on what she needed?

Her thoughts flickered to Regulus, then to Scabior.  _A Gryffindor in disguise._

"Severus," said Hermione softly. "Would you…would it be alright if I sat with you during meals?"

Severus blinked in surprise, exchanging glances with Lily. "Of course," he smiled lightly. "I can't say the rest of my House will be as pleased to see you, though…"

"Oh, sod your Housemates," said Lily with an irritated scowl. "I'll sit with you as well. Heavens knows how much I despise sitting at the Gryffindor table with four idiots ogling me all the time."

Hermione smiled gratefully, and nodded. It was time she learned how much Severus Snape knew about the Dark Arts.


	10. Legilimens

"This isn't so bad," Hermione attempted a cheerful tone. "Hardly anyone's noticed!"

Severus and Lily both gave her a long-suffering look, and then turned their attention to the rest of the Slytherin table. Dozens of students were staring fixatedly at the trio, gripping their butter knives tightly and narrowing their beady eyes. Hermione swallowed hard.

"It could've been worse," she said weakly.

Lily let out a growl and grabbed a crumpet. "Sod them all," she muttered. "It's a free country. There's no rule that says there can't be inter-house mingling."

"Or inter-house breakfast, for that matter," Severus said dryly, earning him a fierce glare.

"Well  _I_  won't be so easily intimidated," Lily hissed, taking a vicious bite out of the crumpet. "And neither should you two; it'll only encourage them."

"Who's intimidated?" Hermione said, straightening in her seat. "I'd rather sit here anyway, glaring or not. I've got grit."

" 'Grit'?" Severus frowned.

Hermione waved it away as she dug into her own breakfast. "Doesn't matter. My point is that…well, this is how it will be. This is just their 'annoyance' phase. By next week they'll be in their 'ignoring' phase and will refuse to look at us. It's all working perfectly, if you ask me."

Severus opened his mouth to reply but closed it suddenly, his eyes narrowing at a figure approaching the table. Hermione followed his gaze, and found herself mirroring his scowl.

"Are you lost?" Scabior asked genuinely, his brows knitting together in confusion. Hermione frowned.

"No. It's a free country. I can eat wherever I please."

Scabior raised an eyebrow and exchanged looks with Severus. "Aye, I'm not complaining. Just making sure you know what you're doing before…" He trailed, and smiled widely. "Well, you'll see when it happens." Scabior turned away, and his expression brightened when he looked at Lily. "Evans," he smiled widely as he resumed his walk down the Slytherin table, taking a seat at the far end.

"Ugh," Lily set down her toast as if it had burned her. "Perhaps I should dye my hair black." She looked at Severus quickly. "Not that there's anything wrong with black."

"I never dreamed there would be a flirt amongst the Slytherins," Hermione said mildly. "It's actually really disturbing."

"He's not a flirt Hermione, he's an idiot," Severus replied shortly, his lip curling in distaste. "And you should stay away from him."

"You tell me to stay away from everyone, Severus. It's a wonder you haven't said as much about yourself."

"There are few you should trust, Hermione," Severus scowled, but his words fell to deaf ears as Lily turned to Hermione.

"He says that to me all time," said Lily darkly. "I've learned to ignore it at this point and just pretend to listen."

Hermione grinned, enjoying the humor at Severus's expense. He made no other remark, but he remained annoyed throughout the walk to Potions.

"Oh will you stop sulking!" Hermione finally with a laugh, and Severus looked at her curtly. "If your own friends cannot tease you, who can?"

"Nobody," said Severus succinctly, though his expression had lightened slightly. Hermione nudged his arm with her elbow, smiling. "Lighten up. We do it because we care."

"Perhaps I should show you how much I care?" Severus challenged with an evil glint in his eye. Hermione laughed and shook her head in protest as they worked on their latest potion.

"Nearly done with the draught already, I see," Slughorn sidled beside Severus, peering into the simmering cauldron. "Soft purple, just as it should. You really are remarkable students."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione and Severus said in unison, though Severus's was a touch bored.

Slughorn leaned a bit closer, and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Now, I originally planned to host the annual Christmas Eve Party last term, but circumstances prevented the celebration. Urgent matters, you see," Slughorn explained, and Hermione nodded while Severus stared blankly. "So I have decided, instead, to have a start-of-term celebration. Just a banquet, nothing too extravagant. Heavens knows the schoolwork has already started to unload on you fifth years—as well as the O.W.L.s. Speaking of owls, look for mine soon with the details!" Professor Slughorn left quite abruptly, diverting his attention to a student nearby whose cauldron was turning an alarming hue of green at a fast rate.

Hermione returned to her experiment, her mind perusing over Slughorn's invitation. Perhaps…she could do what Harry had done…?

"Focus Granger," Severus suddenly snapped, causing Hermione to jump a little. Hermione looked down and saw she had cut a root at a misshapen angle.

"Damn," she muttered, and began chopping with concentration. "Sorry, my mind was preoccupied."

"I didn't even notice," Severus said dryly. "Pray tell me what was on your mind that you've nearly butchered the last remaining ingredient."

Hermione glanced at Severus, and felt like she was trapped in one of those infamous Snape-stares that he gave on a daily basis back when he was her professor. She felt nervous all of a sudden, but she quickly squashed the feeling down. There was no need to be intimidated by this younger, kinder Snape.

Clearing her throat, Hermione gave him a look. "What Slughorn was talking about, obviously. And I've not butchered it, stop being dramatic."

"…no different than the rest, clearly lacking discipline…" she heard Severus mutter as he buried his nose in the potions book. He was scribbling furiously, and Hermione paused in her cutting to peer over his shoulder.

"Are—are you  _writing_  in the book?" Hermione said incredulously. Severus shifted slightly, giving her a better view of his textbook. Indeed, he had written quite a lot in the margins.

"You only just noticed?" Severusclucked his tongue. "I always write my own notes in all of my potions books. Makes things…easier."

"Ah," Hermione noted weakly, her mind wandering. "And…I suppose in our sixth year next term, you will be doing the same…?"

"Naturally."

"What made you start?"

Severus did not bother turning to look at her, almost as if tired by her endless questioning, and instead chose to continue his writing. "When there is something wrong, something easier, I fix it," he explained slowly. "That is all."

"But how could you…you're just a fifth year."

"As you are too, yet you and I can do nonverbal spells," Snape remarked. "Tell me something I do not know."

"How do you know I can do nonverbal spells?" Hermione asked incredulously. She had only done it once by accident the night she arrived at Hogwarts, and that had been in front of the Marauders on the carriage.

Finally Severus leaned away from the table to pin her with an exasperated glare. "Are you on something? Did you take a faulty dieting potion or something?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Why are you asking such obvious questions today, Hermione? It is as if you are only half-awake." Severus actually appeared annoyed, but was restraining his full wrath since she was a friend. Hermione looked away, partially in embarrassment and partially because she was not sure what to say.

"You know I've had a lot on my mind," said Hermione. Severus looked at her for a moment before sighing quietly.

"When will you tell me, Hermione? I don't mind you sitting with me during meals, you must know. But you have not mentioned one word about the Christmas holidays, and all I know is that—as usual—that band of imbeciles have managed to throw you into another abyss, and you have come back to your senses. But there is only so much I can do."

"I  _know_ ," Hermione said tiredly. Because she did. She had not told him yet what happened over break, and honestly did not know what she  _could_  tell him. He would never understand why Sirius grew so mistrustful of her, and she could not tell Severus about the scar on her knee, or the time-traveling. So what could she possibly discuss with him?

Nonetheless, they did need to talk.

Hermione let out a sigh. "Eat lunch with me in the courtyard today. The one by the mountainside. There are less people there."

Severus was puzzled for a moment, then understanding filled his dark, hooded eyes. He gave a curt nod and said nothing. Bending over his textbook, he resumed scribbling in the margins of his potions book.

"You do nonverbal spells on the potions we brew without noticing," said Severus, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

**xxx**

Peter Pettigrew was never one to stand out.

In fact, it was part of his motto, his personal goal, even, to remain in the background—unseen, unbothered, and he was quite happy with such a position.

Over the months, however, the background began to lose its appeal. He found himself wondering  _why_  he liked so much to remain hidden. What benefit did it have him now? Before, it was understandable. Peter was quite small for a fifteen-year-old, so naturally when he was an eleven-year-old, he was even smaller than normal. He was, as many cruel children would think, the perfect target for employing mischief and pranks, and heartless bullying. In fact, if he thought long enough, Peter could recall being quite miserable before he befriended Sirius, James, and Remus. Once he joined their party, the teasing and bullying had all but stopped.

But even still, he never felt quite part of the group. He was always so careful with his words and his actions, fearing they would change their mind and stop their friendship with Peter. That fear of abandonment, and return of the solitary and pitiless life, was the driving force of Peter's complacency and timid acceptance of the trio's words and actions.

But things were not the same anymore. Peter could not figure out what had happened to cause this change, but it had happened and it had changed him irreversibly. No longer did he slink in the background. No longer was his voice unheard.

Peter Pettigrew grew a backbone, and it was going to change everything.

During Transfiguration, Peter found himself glancing at the Granger girl several times during the lesson. She was quiet, determined, and attentive. She smiled at him kindly whenever she caught him watching, which was quite often.

What surprised him was the amount of coldness directed towards her by his very own friends. For the first time since the Severus-fiasco at the start of term, Hermione was not speaking with her neighbors, and neither were they. Peter had been informed of Sirius's musings, of course. It did not make sense, but he was trying to be cautious. In turn, his friends had decided to distance themselves from Hermione Granger, and Peter was utterly baffled.

Remus seemed the most troubled. He would exchange a few words about the class with her at least, which was more than could be said about James and Sirius. James looked as if in deep thought during the entire lesson, and Sirius appeared…lost.

Peter was very honest with himself. Ignoring Hermione would accomplish nothing but wounded pride. And Hermione—so distanced from people who  _should_  have been her friends—was now sitting with the Slytherins at all meals, accompanied by Lily Evans. Peter felt his heart sink even lower every time he watched her enter the Great Hall and head for the Slytherin table, taking a seat across from Severus Snape. And then he grew angry.

And it was because Peter was having these thoughts and questioned his place in the background and gained some bravery, that he decided he did not  _need_  to listen to Sirius's word as law. He would speak with Hermione today, and hopefully renew their friendship.

Peter had always feared abandonment, but he never thought he would be the one to abandon a friend. And it simply did not sit well with him.

**xxx**

"Hermione, will you cease your staring."

"…"

Severus glared at her and began walking faster. "You are such an insufferable—"

" _Don't_ ," Hermione warned, "even think about finishing that sentence."

They entered the courtyard at a brisk pace, and found a bench to sit on. The view was truly spectacular, with flecks of snow on the grass near them and the mountain view ahead. Hermione sighed in content as she sat down.

"It's still quite cold out," Hermione noted with a shiver. It was a massive understatement, as it was  _very_  cold outside, and she knew Severus was not entirely happy with eating in such weather, but knew he would not protest. His need of knowledge far outweighed his comfort.

"You're still staring," Severus said with a level glare. Finally Hermione could stand it no longer, and let out a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, it's just—it's so silly, please take it off?"

Severus narrowed his eyes, and Hermione tilted her head in thought. "Hermione…" Severus said warningly, not liking the look in her eye. She bit her lip and reached over, pushing his protesting hands aside and reached for the back of his head.

"No, I  _need_  it—"

"It looks ridiculous—"

"Leave me alone— _argh!_ "

Hermione had successfully reached over him and quickly yanked off the hair band that had been tying his hair back. With a triumphant smile she pocketed it and looked at the surly Snape in satisfaction. "There. Much better."

"Why must you interfere? Why must you  _always_  interfere? Perhaps I liked it like that," Severus snapped angrily.

"Trust me, you're much more handsome this way," Hermione assured darkly. "That hair band was an abomination."

Severus opened his mouth but did not speak. He closed it immediately, and looked away in gruff embarrassment, though she could have sworn she saw his neck turn scarlet.

"Well, go on. Eat." Severus said shortly, crossing his arms over his chest. Hermione gave him a look and took out a pear from her coat, polishing it a little before taking a bite. He had the patience of allowing her to finish it off in peace, silence filling the air. Well, not total silence—there was the wind and the sounds of creatures roaming far off in the distance, where the Forbidden Forest lay. But it was a companionable silence, comforting even—that was more than she could say with any of her other friends so far. With the exception of Lily and even James, Severus was one of few people where she could not say a word for hours and she would never be tempted to fill the silence with words.

_James_. The thought made Hermione sigh.

"What is it?" asked Severus quietly, the anger having finally left his voice.

Hermione shrugged noncommittally. "Thinking."

"Yes, you seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"I fear what would become of me if I did not think, Severus."

"You would become like Potter, of course."

Hermione snorted, but it slowly turned into a frown. "Well, I suppose that was a good enough transition," she inhaled deeply, staring at her lap as she shoved her hands in her pockets for warmth. When she did not speak for another few minutes, still trying to gather her thoughts on what to say, Severus decided to step in.

"Well, let's start from what I already know…the day classes resumed, you were quite upset."

"Yes, I was," said Hermione softly. Severus watched her carefully for a moment before proceeding.

"And you started sitting with me at meals, and I've noticed you have not spoken with your— _friends_ ," Snape sneered at the last word, "since we returned." Hermione nodded in affirmation. "Well," Severus continued slowly, "what happened on the train?"

"Nothing happened on the train," Hermione said honestly, because nothing did happen. Severus scowled.

" _Hermione_ —" he sounded exasperated.

"I'm being honest, Severus.  _Nothing_  happened."

Severus frowned as he peered into her eyes searchingly. A single black eyebrow rose slowly. "And before the train?"

Hermione suppressed a sigh, now having no choice but to continue herself. "The break was…quite nice actually, in the beginning," she began, her eyes focusing down on her boots. "But the night after that ridiculous Christmas party, Sirius realized I have some secrets…that I am not willing to share with him. And he has decided that I am a threat." She said no more, knowing that revealing anything else would lead to more unwanted questions.

Severus stared at her blankly. "But everybody has secrets."

Hermione turned to him, suddenly filled with ire. "Exactly! Merlin, he is  _such_  a hypocrite for calling me out when he's the biggest mystery out of all of us! He has dozens of secrets stuffed under those ridiculously high cheekbones," she muttered, growing flushed with anger. "After all I've done—been nothing but kind—he's a git!"

Severus chuckled, looking up to the darkened sky as if appealing to the gods. "Finally, one who realizes the truth."

Hermione knocked his shoulder with her own. "So there. That's it. He was foul about the secret-thing and has gotten James, Remus, and Peter to be wary of me now."

Severus shook his head, his face contorted in a look of disgust. "Good riddance," Severus hissed quietly. "They are despicable anyway, you're lucky to have backed out while you had a chance."

"Don't say that!" Hermione admonished, and Severus pinned her with a glare.

"How can you still defend them?" he snapped.

"They're my friends," she said, hesitating a little. Severus caught it and curled his lip.

"And what great friends  _they_  are. Abandoning you without second thought, following Black's orders like good little soldiers—did any of them bother consulting you at all before concluding that you are a secretive liar?" Hermione remained silent. That was all Severus needed, and he plowed on. "You are so blinded by this ideal friendship you think you have with them, that you refuse to see that it does not exist. They are blind followers, and they are finding faults within you without considering who you are, and what you have done to deserve such behavior. I cannot tolerate you breaking into pieces every time something goes wrong concerning Potter and Black."

Hermione was taken aback. "I'm sorry I've been such a burden to you, Severus," Hermione said angrily, rising from the bench. "I promise not to break into pieces when you are near." She was hurt by his words, but a tiny part inside her acknowledged that there was some truth to them. She was constantly devastated when something would go wrong with the Marauders, more so than anyone else. She had let them in her heart far too quickly. Perhaps it was because she knew their fate, and knew some of them personally in her own time.

"You know that is not what I meant," Severus replied quietly. "I just…" he looked away, as if having trouble verbalizing what he was thinking. "You are my friend Hermione. Naturally I would be angry when I see you continuously hurt by your other friends. I do not enjoy seeing you distressed."

"Nor do I," Hermione murmured. Sighing deeply, she sat back down next to him. "I'm stronger than this, Severus." She looked at him blankly. "I'm just so tired…all of the time. I feel drained, as if I'm being stretched thin from all directions. And I don't know why," she trailed, her mind going to the horcrux that continued to whisper to her under her bed.

"It's a vicious cycle for me, Sev. I get up, I try, I get hit, and I fall. I used to be stronger than this. I  _need_  to be stronger than this," her voice grew harder, and she looked away into the distance.

"Then become stronger."

Hermione looked at Severus. His face was deadly serious. "You may not be physically strong, but you have a mind, Hermione. From what I have learned, you can do battle with just your mind—it is your strongest tool and your greatest advantage. As long as you have this," he tapped the side of her head, "and you protect it, and you  _use_  it…you will be fine."

Hermione stared at him for a long while, stunned by the emotion he conveyed in his declaration. She had never seen this side of him before—impassioned, confident, and so supportive of her. She was nearly rendered speechless. Hermione could not believe she was friends with someone so truly remarkable, and she would cherish this friendship forever.

"Oh Severus," Hermione finally said, shaking her head in awe. "Thank god I met you." She leaned against him, looping her arm into his. She smiled when he did not stiffen as he usually did whenever someone touched him, and her smile widened when she felt him lean slightly into her as well.

After a long moment, when Hermione was least suspecting the silence to be broken, Severus spoke. "Hermione…"

"Mm?"

"Would you like to learn Occlumency?"

Hermione froze. Eyes wide, she leaned away and looked up at him. Searching his eyes, she said incredulously, "You're serious."

"I am." Severus withdrew his arm from her, and looked at her seriously. "You've been through such things Hermione, that at times I am amazed you are as kind as you are." Hermione bit her lip, and he continued. "You were targeted for a reason. I know that you will not always be safe. And if…" he paused, before continuing strongly, "if you were ever to encounter the Dark Lord or his followers, you must protect your mind."

Hermione pondered on his words. "And you'd be willing to…teach me?" she asked unsurely.

"Yes."

Hermione lowered her eyes, her mind racing. Learn  _Occlumency_  from Severus Snape? She remembered when Harry had lessons with him, and he came back miserable each time—but she knew it was because of their mutual hatred that made the lessons extremely difficult.

"How do you know Occlumency, Severus?" she asked slowly. Severus blinked, his eyes tight.

"I've said it before, Hermione. Your mind is your greatest weapon. It was natural for me to find ways…to protect it."

Hermione nodded slowly. He did not directly explain how he knew it, but she would not press him, for she did not really need to know.

Occlumency, learning to be an Animagus, and destroying horcruxes. Hermione had a feeling that the list would not end there.

"Yes," she breathed. Hermione looked Severus in the eyes, and smiled. "Yes, I would be honored to learn from you."

Severus looked relieved, and gave her a small smile of his own. "Excellent," he straightened, looking at her superiorly. "We will begin at first chance. I don't want to interrupt your studying during the weekends, so tell me which days work for you."

"We'll be doing this immediately?" Hermione spluttered in shock.

Severus gave her a pointed look, as if she had said something incredibly stupid. "What else did you think would happen? The world is not safe, Hermione, and the faster you learned to protect yourself, the better."

Hermione nodded in acquiescence. "Yes, I suppose you are right…well, how about Potions on Tuesdays and Thursdays? It is the last class on those days and we can skip dinner and go straight to practicing."

"Very well," Severus smirked at her in that familiar way, and Hermione scowled. "I have one condition."

"Here we go," Hermione muttered.

"During our lessons, you will refer to me as either 'sir' or 'Professor Snape'. We must maintain the student-teacher relationship as close to reality as possible, wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione groaned when she heard his words. "I thought I'd never have to call you that again," she muttered under her breath. It was all very deja-vu, and much too close to home.

"What was that?"

Hermione jumped and smiled brightly. "Nothing at all!... _Professor_."

"That's Professor Snape to  _you_ ," Snape leered, his lips curling upwards in amusement.

"Never," Hermione grinned, and yelped when he kicked a pile of snow onto her. "That's foul play! I'll report you to your boss!"

He kicked snow onto her again and she reached into her pocket, stretching the hair band and sending it hurtling to Severus's face. He cried out and looked at her murderously, as Hermione tried and failed to keep from laughing when his left cheek grew stinging red. He made a lunge for her and she sprang from the bench, running down the sloping courtyard with Severus hot on her heels. She shrieked when he caught her around the waist and spun her, bringing her to a large mound of snow.

"Do you surrender?" he growled, his voice dancing with laughter.

"No," she laughed, the let out a short scream when he doubled her over, leaning behind her as he brought her face closer to the snow.

" _Do you surrender?_ "

"No!"

He was just about to drop her into the snow when they heard a scuffle of feet a few feet away. Hermione and Severus lifted their heads simultaneously, and were surprised at what they saw.

"Peter?" Hermione said in shock. Peter smiled nervously.

**xxx**

"Are you sure you're okay, Remus?" James asked quietly. "You look a bit—"

"I know what I look like," Remus snapped, and James blinked. "I'm sorry," Remus groaned, lowering his head into his hand. "It's close to the full moon, so you know…things are a bit heightened for me right now."

"I know, mate," James clapped his shoulder reassuringly. "You'll get through this, just like you always do."

"Yeah," replied Remus distantly.

"Are you going to the Shrieking Shack?"

Remus shrugged. "I'm not sure. After the attack last term, I've had a different arrangement with Dumbledore…although, I cannot say I prefer his singular suggestion."

James furrowed his brows. "You never did tell us what his alternative was, Remus."

Remus gave him a meaningful look, and James paused. "You don't mean…" James hesitated, and Remus gave a curt nod. James sprang to his feet. "He can't do that! You can't be caged like a—like an  _animal_ —"

"But that's what I am, James!" Remus rose to his feet as well, striding over to James's side of the dormitory bed. "Once a month, that is what I am. I cannot blame him for considering that option."

"There must be something else," James replied quietly. Remus shrugged, and slowly sat back down on his own bed.

"It's okay, you know? It's better than getting maimed by a psychotic, maniacal freak."

"Did they ever find out who it was that attacked you?"

"Last I heard from Dumbledore, they're still tracking him down," Remus admitted. "It doesn't—there will always be people who will hurt me, James. And there will be people I hurt. It is the way it is."

James stared at his best friend, his emotions conflicting in his mind. "It doesn't have to be that way. And you shouldn't accept pain as your fate. There is more to life than that."

"Is there?"

James did not reply. Instead, he stated, "I have to meet Sirius and Peter soon."

Remus looked away, heaving a sigh. "Might as well. Just another thing to add to the list."

"What do you mean?"

Remus gave a pointed look. "I'm not an idiot, James. I know you three go out together every night, doing god knows what, and taking the cloak and map with you."

"Don't be silly," James lied, feeling panic stir inside him. He hadn't meant for Remus to notice, and he did not want to tell Remus just yet what they were planning with their Animagus-training. "We're just fooling around."

Remus looked away. "I understand. I'm not saying anything."

James felt the coldness of his words, and frowned. "You don't really think we're leaving you out of the group, do you?"

Remus stood from his bed and headed for the door. "Not at all," he replied. "But I wouldn't be the first." The door closed quietly, and James could not help but feel extremely guilty as his thoughts turned to his sister.

Remus walked briskly across the common room and climbed out of the portrait hole. He decided to visit Dumbledore's office to verify the means of his transformation tomorrow night. He could understand James's fury at the prospect of being locked away, but really, what other choice did he have? He could not test Dumbledore's generosity any longer. He was the only headmaster in all of Britain to accept him as a student, knowing his circumstances.

He arrived at Professor McGonagall's office, and knocked quietly. "Enter," he heard her say, and he opened the door.

"Mr. Lupin," McGonagall acknowledged. "Are you well?"

"Yes, Professor," replied Remus as he stood before her desk. "I was hoping I could see Professor Dumbledore tonight, regarding my…plans for tomorrow."

"The headmaster is currently away from Hogwarts, but I was informed that your location will remain the same as last."

"Professor Dumbledore is not here?" he said incredulously.

"Yes. Urgent matters, none that concern a fifth-year. Off to bed, and you will meet me here at six o'clock sharp tomorrow evening."

"Yes Professor," he said subdued, turning mechanically away. Once the door was closed behind him, he furrowed his brows. Dumbledore had never left Hogwarts the week of his transformation. What had called him away?

**xxx**

James sat on his bed, his mind turning over the conversation with Remus.

" _But I wouldn't be the first_. _"_

James groaned, and fell backwards onto the bed. Ever since Sirius told them the cautionary tale regarding Hermione Granger, an uncomfortable feeling of unease settled in his stomach and knotted his heartstrings for several days. He did not like this. No, he did not like this at all.

She was his  _sister_. His sister who had been tortured at the hands of Death Eaters. She had her secrets, secrets that Sirius felt would prove strongly dangerous, as he had somehow met her before and she was hiding it. Secrets were the fabric of lies, and it was something the Marauders did not like to keep amongst themselves—or so they liked to believe.

James shook his head. Having a life before the attack was not something to condemn someone of. And while he believed his best friend wholeheartedly, he needed to confront Hermione about this on his own. She would be at his side for the rest of his life, and he would be damned if he would let their friendship disintegrate for adolescent drama.

It was then that James glanced over at Remus's bed, and he felt another familiar pang in his heart. Mind made up, he rose from the bed.

James quickly left the dormitory and searched for Sirius. He was not in the common room, nor in the Great Hall. It took him quite some time, but he finally found Sirius hunched over a book in the library.

"What are you doing here, Sirius?"

"Studying, my dear friend. You will find that I  _do_  take my education seriously," was Sirius's lofty reply, his eyes still roving over the text.

"We're supposed to meet in the Room of Requirement tonight," James reminded, taking a seat across from his best friend. "Also, Remus has got the idea in his head that we are not including him in our friendship any longer."

At this Sirius's head shot up. "What! Why would he ever think that?"

"Oh, I dunno, Sirius. Maybe because we sneak out of our dormitories every other night without him? The kid is damn clever; he was bound to notice some time."

"Damn," Sirius cursed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't want him thinking we're ignoring him. He must know better."

"All the more reason we need to practice tonight, so that we can show him what we've been up to," replied James emphatically.

"Right, right," Sirius agreed, nodding. "Where's Peter?"

**xxx**

"So the mouse has finally crawled out of its hole," Severus sneered, releasing Hermione and stepping away. "Were they not feeding you well?"

"Stop it, Severus," Hermione hissed, and shot an apologetic look towards Peter. "Was there something you wanted, Peter?"

Peter hesitated, and Hermione smiled at him kindly.

"I..I, um…"

"Yes?" Severus raised a condescending brow, and Hermione threw him a dark look.

"Could I…speak with Hermione privately?" he finally managed. He was fidgeting like mad, and Hermione took sympathy and nodded.

"Severus, if you could please," she gave him a meaningful look, and he merely frowned.

"No, I think I'd rather stay. We are all friends, are we not?" Snape said innocently, but she saw a hint of a smirk on the corner of his mouth. Hermione scowled and turned to Peter, who looked as if he were debating with himself.

"Peter, let's go, we can walk somewhere—"

"No," he replied immediately, and looked her in the eyes, suddenly determined. Peter glanced over at Severus, and licked his lips. "He's right. Severus should stay. He's been the better friend out of the two of us."

"So he does have a brain," Severus remarked blandly.

"Severus!" Hermione gritted her teeth.

"I came here because…because," Peter took a deep breath. "Sirius is my best friend, Hermione. He's—he's been there for me when nobody else has, he  _saw_  me when nobody else did…so, so you must understand why I listen very closely to him." Peter looked up and met her eyes, and Hermione nodded slowly, her heart beating very fast at what she saw in them.

"Sirius, James, Remus—they're my  _best friends_  above all. But—but that does not mean I have to blindly follow what they say. Their word is not law, and without figuring things out for myself…I cannot see why I should allow myself to be swayed." Peter closed his eyes briefly, and swallowed hard. "They are not my masters," he breathed, letting out a shuddering breath. Opening his eyes, he looked at Hermione with conviction. "I bow down to no one. I am my own master, and…and…and I do not think it is right…what they are doing with you."

Hermione dared not breathe. She did not know what Severus's expression was like, but she could tell he had gone very still beside her.

When Hermione did not respond, and continued to gaze at Peter with widened eyes, Peter began shifting nervously. "So," Peter continued in a high-pitched voice, "with your permission, I would very much like to continue speaking with you…and be your friend again."

Hesitantly, Peter raised his gaze to Hermione's again. Hermione was struck, frozen on the spot, and it was as if she saw little stars floating in her vision. Finally, her mouth opened.

"Oh Peter," she sighed, and took three steps up to give the small boy a hug. He was taken aback at first, but then quickly returned the embrace. They released each other and Hermione broke into a wide grin. " _Thank you_. This means more than you could ever know."

Peter was positively beaming, his eyes glancing over to Snape, whose mouth was twisted in an expression as if he had smelled something particularly foul.

"Does this mean you will sit at the Gryffindor table again?" Peter asked hopefully.

Hermione paused, and glanced at Severus. He looked back at her indifferently, though his mouth was forming a frown. "I—I don't think so, Peter," Hermione said finally, looking back at him. Peter was visibly disappointed, and Hermione sighed. "While I am thrilled that we are friends again, there's still a lot of animosity at that table that I don't want to deal with right now. We have exams in just a few weeks, and I need to have a clear head."

"I understand," Peter nodded, but he gave her a small smile. "I'll see you in the common room?"

Hermione smiled and nodded, and with that Peter began heading back into the castle. She watched him go, and it felt as if a massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"I did not expect that," Severus noted blankly as Peter disappeared out of sight. "I never knew he had the bal—Hermione?"

She felt Severus's finger brush against her cheek, wiping the wetness that was there. She looked up at Severus, her eyes bright with relief and happiness, and she smiled. He looked at her in deep concern and confusion.

"I did it," she breathed, more to herself than to him. Her smile broadened. "It has not all been a waste. I've made a difference _. I did it_."

**xxx**

"Peter, where the bloody hell have you been?" Sirius hissed, quickly grabbing the young boy by the arm and dragging him back out of the portrait hole he had just climbed in from.

"I was roaming the courtyards—" Peter began.

" 'Roaming the courtyards' he says," James shook his head as he walked briskly down the halls beside them. "Have you forgotten what today is?"

Peter blinked a few times before gasping. "Oh.  _Oh_. Merlin's beard."

"Well you're lucky there's still plenty of time," Sirius muttered, checking his pocket watch. "We have a good six hours."

They slipped quietly into the Room of Requirement, and the trio exchanged looks.

"We were very close last night," James said seriously. "I am certain if we try our best, we can do this tonight."

"James…"

"We have to try, Sirius!" Sirius remained silent, inwardly hoping tonight would be the night.

"Alright," Peter said, bracing himself against his knees. "Begin."

The three marauders allowed the energy of magic to flow through them, focusing on transforming their bodies into an animal. Each had a specific animal in mind, each pushing themselves as far as they could go, and each terribly desperate to be there for Remus during his full moon transformation.

There was a rustle of noise, and James opened his eyes.

"HOLY SHIT!" James exclaimed. "Peter, look at Sirius! Look at our bloody boy!"

Peter opened his eyes and broke his concentration, only to have his jaw drop. "Sirius!"

Where once stood the six foot, dark-haired aristocrat, was now a large shaggy dog with wild black fur and twinkling grey eyes. The dog form of Sirius gave a happy bark, and began running around the room.

James reached down when Sirius drew near him, running his hands through his mane. "Nothing seems to be amiss…the transformation was flawless…damn it, Sirius, I had hoped I'd be the first to shift." Sirius barked again, and James straightened. Immediately Sirius back to his human form, a shit-eating grin spread on his face.

"You owe me six galleons," Sirius declared proudly, and James rolled his eyes.

"You just wait, tonight me and Peter will have transformed as well, isn't that right—Peter? Where is he?"

Sirius frowned, noticing his friend's disappearance. "I dunno, I think—oh."

"What?"

Sirius crouched down, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. "I think your answer is down here."

James glanced down and blanched. "You've got to be joking."

A large rat was staring up at them, its nose quivering in excitement. James reached down and stroked its back.

"Looks like it's just you," Sirius smirked, ignoring his friend's glare. "And make that ten galleons."

Peter transformed back to normal, his eyes dancing with excitement. "James! Did you see me! Sirius! It was like nothing I'd imagined it'd be!"

"You bet your teacozy it was," Sirius grinned, clapping Peter on the back.

"Let me concentrate now," James was perfectly still, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose. He let the magic flow through him, and willed it to transform his body into an animal. Beads of sweat ran down his brow, and he opened his eyes in exhaustion.

"I don't think I can do it today," James said tiredly, only the words did not come out of his mouth. He blinked, and saw that Sirius and Peter were hovering over him with identical looks of awe, smiling wide. It was then that James breathed in deeply and glanced down, realizing what had happened.

With delight he began to run, jumping and circling his friends in his stag form. Finally he stopped out of exhaustion, and willed his body to return to normal. It happened immediately, and within moments he was standing beside Sirius and Peter.

"Well shit," said James, unable to stop smiling. "That was bloody quick."

"We will practice the rest of the night, to make sure the transitions are smooth," said Peter firmly, and the other two nodded. Smiling, he said, "If this can keep up…I think we don't have to hide this from Remus anymore."

"And he will never have to be alone again," said Sirius solemnly.

**xxx**

Hermione bit her lip as she perused through a large book she had bought over Christmas break. While she did have a euphoric moment yesterday with having Peter Pettigrew become a fiercely independent and strong-willed boy, it reminded Hermione that every moment in this era counted, and she still had yet to destroy a single horcrux. The end of the year was approaching quickly, and Hermione had to continue her research. However, the only piece of magic that she found relevant to horcruxes was,  _yet again_ , fiendfyre, and even that was remarkably vague.

"…' _Fire possesses sentience of its own'_ …yes, yes, I know that…" Hermione muttered, clutching her bushy hair with a frustrated hand. "Dragon, snake, chimaera…beastly flame…but  _how_  do I put it out?"

"Can't say I'd ever dream o' you saying those words, Granger," a voice said suddenly. She jumped and watched Scabior sit in the seat across from her.

"What, are you following me?" Hermione snapped, closing the book quickly.

"I'm just brushing up my spells for the O.W.L.s next month, is all," Scabior said in defense. "No need to twist your hair in a knot—oh," Scabior's expression dropped in false sympathy, "I seemed to have spoken too soon."

"And sat down too soon, as well," Hermione muttered, stuffing her books in her bag.

"You're a damn feisty one, tha's for sure," Scabior noted, tilting his head. "You should really stop, it only interests me more."

"I don't get it. Shouldn't you hate me? You're a Slytherin; don't you have some stereotypes to fulfill?"

"I do as I wish, and I wish as I do," Scabior sat up straighter, looking affronted. "I may run with the crowd but I don't necessarily enjoy their cake. I choose for myself, I do."

"Right. Well, this has been fascinating. I'll be off now," Hermione rose to leave, when Scabior's next words caused her to pause.

"Funny that a good little Gryffindor should be looking up fiendfyre, don't you think?"

Hermione swallowed and gave him a withering look. "Academic curiosity."

Scabior smiled slowly. "I could help you, if you like."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt you could ever help me."

He raised his hand to his heart. "That hurts, Granger. I was being sincere."

"Leave me alone, please. There are hundreds of other girls in this school for you to charm. Pick any one of them."

Scabior stood up, leaning against the table. "Well since you asked so nicely—I choose you."

Hermione groaned in frustration, slinging her bag over her shoulder as he continued. "Have you ever heard of my family, Granger? They were very prominent wizards, brilliant ones too—"

"Clearly skipped a generation," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"—and you would be  _amazed_  at all the inventions my lineage is responsible for, which has been passed down generation after generation, after generation, where I was taught some very ancient and valuable magic—"

He was cut off abruptly when an owl soared into the library, dropped a letter in Hermione's hands, and flew away. Hermione read it quickly and pressed her lips together.

"An invitation?" Scabior observed.

"Very astute of you. I see you haven't—" Hermione stopped when a second owl came and dropped a letter at Scabior's feet. Smirking, he picked it up and smiled.

"Like I said, Granger. I'm practically royalty." He smiled and tucked the letter in his robes. "I'll be seeing you soon, love. And this time, it'll be you who comes to me."

Hermione made a face of disgust as he left. Why was she  _always_  stuck with Slytherins?

**xxx**

Hermione went down to the Great Hall for lunch, smiling when she saw Lily and Severus already sitting there waiting for her. She studiously ignored the rampant glares sent her way and took a seat.

"I'm starved," she announced, grabbing a sandwich off her plate and taking a large bite. "Is this turkey?"

"I'd say," Lily said mildly. "I see you got your letter as well."

"Yes," Hermione cast a wistful glance at the letter sticking out of her bag. "I almost wish I didn't have to go."

"It won't be so bad," Lily assured gently. "I've gone loads of times already. Slughorn likes to talk a lot, so you spend most of his meetings just sitting there listening to his stories," she smiled fondly. "He's quite brilliant you know. Gives me hope about the Slytherin House, knowing people like him were sorted in there as well."

"I agree," Hermione nodded, smiling faintly. "He is quite extraordinary, if you think about it."

"While this is very fascinating, I would not mind a change of subject," Severus interjected dryly. Lily grinned, and propped her arms on the table.

"You are also a good egg in the Slytherin House, of course," Lily amended. "Slughorn's a bit more interesting because he's genuinely nice to everyone."

Hermione snorted at the glare Severus was shooting Lily.

"Um, excuse me."

Hermione turned around, her mouth parting in surprise. " _Peter?_ "

Peter smiled nervously, glancing around the room. "Would you mind if I sat here today?"

Speechless, Hermione and Lily moved over to give him space to sit, while Severus openly glared at Peter with suspicion. From across the room, the three marauders were stunned in silence.

**xxx**

"That boy continues to amaze," Severus said mildly as they headed out of potions. It was a quick lesson, as it was the end of the week, and they had all created a simple draft of stimulant potion to keep the drinker awake.

"Peter has always had a good heart, Severus," Hermione chided softly. "He's just showing it now."

"At a very convenient time," Severus sneered. He smirked then, and said, "Though the look on Potter and Black's faces was very well worth the cramped space at the corner of the table."

"They were quite stunned, weren't they," Hermione agreed. "I suppose they didn't know he was going to sit with me, let alone talk to me." Glancing around, Hermione stopped walking. "So, where will we be doing our lessons?"

"Someplace secluded," Severus murmured, his brows furrowing in thought. "And comfortable."

Hermione considered telling him about the Room of Requirement, but it did not feel right. She wasn't sure how she would explain knowing about such a place, and how it would affect Severus if he knew about it.

"There  _is_ this spot on the grounds," Severus began, "that I like to study by myself. It's quiet and nobody else knows of it."

"Where is it?" Hermione asked. He led her outside, traveling down the hills of the grounds and down a set of stone steps, stopping in front of a tall tree.

"I like leaning against here to study," Severus remarked, staring up at the tree. "It's quite comfortable and we can just spell it warm."

"Sounds alright with me," Hermione agreed. Severus gave her a long look. Frowning, she asked, "What?"

"Remember what we discussed?"

Hermione blinked, and then frowned even more deeply. "No."

" _Hermione_."

"Fine," she snapped. "Professor."

Not bothering to hide a triumphant grin, Severus took a seat and sat opposite her. "Now," he said, taking out his wand, "this might hurt at first, but you'll get used to it. You have to close your mind, as if you are putting up a mental shield. It's a bit messy the first few times, and I promise not to look into your memories as much as I can."

"What?" Hermione froze.  _Shit. Shit. Shit. No_. Why the hell did she forget that detail? Was she an idiot? She blamed Sirius for fogging her mind these past few days! "No. No, no, no, no, no, no I can't do that. Severus, my thoughts are private. I don't think I want to do this—"

"Don't worry, I promise you'll be okay. I'm sure your thoughts are not too impure," Severus smirked, misreading her apprehension. "I will be quick, and you have to be alert, because I won't tell you when I do it. Alright?"

"Wait, Severus please," Hermione begged. "Don't—"

" _Legilimens!_ "


	11. The Beginning of the End

Hermione felt like her skull was on fire. Her eyes squeezed shut as blinding images sifted through her mind like pages of a book, the edges burning and crumbling, and faded like an old tome.

She was no longer cognizant of the fact that she was sitting on the grass against a tree, or that Severus was sitting beside her. Hermione felt as if she had been ripped from the ground and forced into her head, watching her life flicker by in fastly fading images.

_She was sitting in the girls' bathroom, sniffling as she attempted to wipe the tears from her face. There was no use crying now. She was an outcast as a muggle and an outcast as a witch. Nobody would ever like her, and they weren't wrong….she_ _**was** _ _a know-it-all…nobody would be her friend…_

_Hermione stepped outside the stall and felt her heart stop when she saw two heavy feet standing in front of her, and her jaw dropping when she looked up and saw a troll staring down at her…_

"Focus, Hermione _," Severus said sternly next to her, and she gasped._

_Before she could react the scene shifted again, and Hermione found herself kneeling on the floor watching a cabinet repair and destroy itself over and over, as it vaulted in a time loop right before her eyes. She had finally noticed the shard embedded in her knee, and glanced down and saw the broken time-turner. Hermione's eyes widened._

" _No!" she yelled and closed her eyes, throwing up a shield desperately in her mind. He shouldn't see this, he should_ _ **not**_ _be seeing this!_

Hermione gasped when she was pulled out of the memory and back to the present. Her breathing was rough as air filled her lungs rapidly, and she vaguely realized that she was doubled over, the palms of her hands flat against the ground.

"Not bad," Severus said beside her, his tone holding a touch of concern.

"T-hanks," Hermione gasped, straightening in her seat and composing herself. Licking her dry lips, she looked at Severus fearfully and swallowed hard. "So, um, I think I'm done for the day."

"What?" Severus scowled down at her. "Hermione, as much as I'm impressed that you were able to block me out at some point, that's hardly near success. This won't work if you don't practice."

"I understand," Hermione's hand trembled as she fought to push a bushy lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm just…I just…I don't think I'm ready for this right now." She gave an apologetic smile to an extremely perplexed Snape.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Hermione." When she made no response, he scowled. "Were you just spouting more sympathy notes before then, about wanting to get stronger?"

"What? No! Severus—"

"Do you not trust me? I told you there would be no damage in learning this."

"I  _do_ trust you, and I  _do_ want to be stronger, you knowI do…"

Severus's lips curled instantly into a cheerful smile. "Well, then. Shall we continue?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "No, no wait please,  _please_ —"

It came even faster than before, and Hermione felt the wind knock out of her as her mind zoomed through the recesses of her memories, some buried deep and some resting fragilely on the surface. She tried desperately to do what Snape had been trying to teach her, to shield her mind from intrusion, but everything was going too fast and she was struggling to remember what she was doing in the first place…

_Hermione was staring down at a pale, blond-haired boy as he spoke, and something snapped in her. The next moment her hand swung in the air and connected loudly with the boy's cheek, leaving everyone—including herself—flabbergasted._

" _Hermione," Ron said in wonder beside her as the blond ran away, looking at her as if she owned the world, and Hermione felt herself warm with pleasure…_

"Focus," _a voice reminded, and she blinked when the scene shifted to Hermione sitting in Dumbledore's office, as he handed her a golden necklace. The Time-Turner was almost weightless in her hands, and she was mesmerized by the ruby red grains of sand inside._

_"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said shakily, "you used this tonight, didn't you_. _"_

Hermione blinked and realized what she was thinking. "No," she breathed, "No, you can't! Get out of my head!"

She attempted to stop the memory, to redirect it elsewhere, and for the moment it had worked; the scene shifted to darkness, her mind tirelessly striving to shut him out. She grew tired immediately, and felt wisps of thoughts flicker around her. She could  _feel_  Severus there with her, in her mind, penetrating it with his presence, and she struggled to throw him out. He was like heavy weight pressing against her in every direction, the walls closing in. But as quickly as she managed to stop the memories, they came flooding back, and Hermione was far too weakened to do anything to stop them.

_She was standing in shock when a little boy shyly stuck out his hand to her. "I'm Sirius Black, by the way." The little boy beamed, and Hermione's heart stuttered._

"Hermione…?"

Hermione blanched at Severus's voice and screamed inside her head. No, no, she couldn't—and then it was happening already, before she could stop it—

_She felt pools of moisture collecting under her lids when Professor Snape curled his lips in disgust, saying softly, "Five more points from Gryffindor, for being an insufferable know-it-all."_

"NO!"

Memories swirled and vanished, and she threw her mind into darkness, fighting to keep Severus out. It was long moments later that Hermione realized the darkness she was seeing was the back of her eyelids, and she was on the grass once more.

She was too frightened to move. Her breathing was uneven, but so was Severus's beside her.

Trembling, Hermione opened her eyes. She was lying on the grass with her hands clutched to her head. Slowly, she raised herself to a sitting position. Swallowing thickly, she turned to look at Severus.

Severus was sitting absolutely still. His back was perfectly straight, his muscles tense. Silence filled the air between them stiflingly, and Hermione grew afraid.

"Severus?"

No response.

Hermione blinked rapidly, and shifted closer. "Severus," she repeated. When he made no move to reply, she said pleadingly, "Please say something."

"I was there," Severus said quietly. He was staring intently at his knee, his breathing light. "Older. I was there. You called me 'Professor'."

Not knowing what else to say, or what to make of this unusually frozen Severus, Hermione answered tentatively, "Yes. You were."

It was ages before Severus spoke again. "Is this why…" He gave her a scrutinizing look, as if trying to decipher her. "Is this why…Black mistrusts you?"

She nodded haltingly. "Yes."

Severus was lost in thought again, and Hermione did not know what to make of it. She didn't know what to do. Finally, she whispered, "Severus, you cannot tell anyone."

This finally got a real response from him. He furrowed his brows and said, "Does anybody else know?"

"No," she said quickly. "Not even Dumbledore."

Immediately Severus sprang to his feet, drawing his wand. "For once perhaps that oaf Black was right," he said coldly, and it was like a bucket of ice had been dropped over Hermione's head. "Dumbledore must know."

"No—stop!" Hermione grabbed Severus's arm violently. "You can't tell him, you  _cannot_  tell anyone!"

"Why?" Severus sneered. Hermione fought back the hurt inside her and scowled.

"Because he's the one who sent me here.  _He's_  the reason I'm even here in this bloody time. I can't…I can't know what it will do if Dumbledore knows, if  _anyone_  else knows. It could throw off the rhythm of an already disturbed time stream."

"Why are you here?" the next question came rapidly from Severus. Hermione opened her mouth, and stilled.

"I—I  _can't_. I can't tell you. Please, you must know I mean no harm."

"You can be vague," said Severus, taking a step forward, and keeping his wand locked on her. His upper lip curling, he hissed, " _Explain_."

Hermione bit her lip. Severus's eyes were filled with confusion and mistrust. She would never be able to reach her wand without having a hex thrown at her.

"Lower your wand," Hermione lifted her chin. Severus frowned. "I'll not be speaking as if I'm a criminal, with a wand at my throat.  _Lower your wand_ , Sev, and I will tell you what I can."

The use of his nickname brought a spark of clarity to his eyes. Narrowing them, he lowered his wand arm hesitantly and waited for her to speak.

"Come, sit," she sat back against the tree, and waited for him to follow. He sat down stiffly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You may ask whatever questions," she started quietly. "And I may choose to answer. I will tell you what I  _can_."

"Who are you?" Severus asked at once.

"Hermione Granger."

"Who are you  _really_?"

"Hermione Granger," Hermione repeated. "I've not changed my name."

"How did you get here?"

"From a Time-Turner."

"Don't be daft," Snape snapped. "No Time-Turner can move back  _years;_  even first years know that."

"I didn't use an ordinary one," retorted Hermione. "You saw my memories. Think of what you saw when I was sitting in Dumbledore's office."

Severus grew silent again, his mind racing. "The red sand is responsible?"

Hermione nodded. "I've never heard of such an instrument," said Snape coldly. Hermione almost snorted. "I didn't either, until a few months ago."

Severus sobered immediately. "Why are you here?"

"I was sent by Dumbledore."

"For what purpose?"

"To…help."

"With?"

Hermione shook her head. "So you knew me already," Snape continued. "When you arrived. You knew everybody here."

His voice sounded almost betrayed, and her heart twisted. "Not personally," Hermione insisted softly. "I don't know most of the people in this era; I only recognize their names."

Severus was silent once more. Hermione fidgeted in her seat, waiting for the worst. She was mentally preparing herself for the distrust, the betrayed eyes and the sneering. Always the sneering. It was a shame, because Severus and Hermione had finally become genuine friends.

The sneering did not come. Instead, Severus said inaudibly, "Proof. Show me proof."

Hermione's eyes widened. Slowly, she replied, "Were my memories not enough?"

Severus shook his head. "I…have to know this is all by Dumbledore. I need to know you aren't here…to hurt anybody."

"I don't know if I have anything like that to show, Severus," Hermione muttered. Wringing her hands, she shook her head. What could she show? Her textbooks from the future? Fat lot of good that would do. She brought nothing of proof, nothing to—

"Wait," she said suddenly. "I have one thing. It's not enough, but it's something."

Silently the pair walked back into the castle. Hermione led him to the Gryffindor common room, muttering the password and climbing inside. Severus hesitated.

"I'll stay here," he said uncomfortably.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't want this out of the open. You should see it where it belongs."

After much persuading and harsh words, Severus grudgingly entered the Gryffindor common room. She spelled the staircase to stay put as she led him to the girls' dormitory. It was still lunchtime and Gryffindor tower was silent and empty, and she crept into her dormitory, with Severus right behind.

She stopped at the foot of her bed and knelt down. Reaching for her trunk, she pulled it out on top of her mattress and flicked her wand a few times, disabling some enchantments and opening it. She groped inside, searching for the bag, while Severus watched her intently. His stare was unnerving, and she could not meet his eyes when she finally pulled the bag free and slipped her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around a cold chain.

She reached for Severus's hand. She dropped the necklace in his palm, and waited. He stared at it, then lifted it to his eyes in scrutiny.

"Where is the sand?" he pondered.

Hermione bit her lip. "After I…after I got here, it disappeared. You're only allowed to use it twice. But if you look closely inside, there's still a tiny spot of red."

Severus brought the Time-Turner closer to his eyes, squinting. Finally he lowered his hand, expressionless, and returned the necklace to Hermione.

He sat down on her bedspread without a word. Silently, Hermione returned the Time-Turner into her trunk and put the charms back on it, then drew it under the bed. She had never expected this sort of reaction if someone were to find out about the truth of her existence. Screaming, accusations, flying hexes—those she had expected. But not this. Not quiet contemplation.

As quietly as she could, without disturbing the bed too much, Hermione took a seat beside Severus. He met her eyes, and Hermione held her breath.

"The story," he murmured, as if unsure of what to say. "About…the Dark Lord's followers attacking you, and killing your family. That can't be true."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "Honestly, Severus…I have no idea. I think it is."

Severus scowled. "What does that mean? You're not from here, you can't have been attacked and had your family murdered."

"This wasn't normal magic I used to get here, Severus," she whispered harshly. "Using this Time-Turner—it changes  _fate_. My destiny has been changed. It rewrote history, what it needed to change, to have me stay here. I have—I have bits of memories of being tortured. I have residual effects of the Cruciatus Curse, as if I truly had been cursed with it for hours."

Severus was shocked, and his eyes went wide as he stared at her incredulously. "How is that even possible?"

"How is any of this possible?" she replied with a shake of her head. "But I know there's some truth to the stories. The Granger family—the family lineage where I come from, the parents that  _should_  have had me in a few years—are dead. There will never be a baby Hermione Granger born in 1979. So the Time-Turner has done its work."

It took Severus several moments to process these words. He looked torn between denying it all and going into a fit of rage, and clutching his head in confusion and dismay.

"Why are you here, Hermione?" Severus looked from his lap and pinned her with a fierce stare. "You said you came to help. Nothing you've done here could have been without a purpose." Understanding registered on his face, and it was slowly twisting into fury. Hermione shifted nervously, and reached for his hand. "What happens in the future that is so terrible that Albus Dumbledore sends a teenager into the past to fix the mistakes?"

"Severus—"

He pulled his hand away before she could touch him, as if already burned. His eyes were full of accusation. "I saw your memory. You  _knew_  me. I was your professor, and I was—I was—"

_Cruel to you_. Hermione bit her lip as he worked the pieces together.

"That has nothing to do with it," she said earnestly. "I hadn't plan on talking to anybody, being noticed by anybody; being your friend happened on its own! I swear, Severus, I—"

Severus abruptly stood up, breathing quickly through his nostrils. He was shaking, but was still trying to keep his anger checked.

"I understand," he said evenly. He turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Hermione jumped from her bed and reached out to him, stopping him before he opened the door. "Are you angry?"

"I don't know."

His expression was unreadable, making it impossible for Hermione to know what he was thinking. Severus was clever, and had probably worked out the finer details of her purpose here without needing to be told. It frightened her. He would think she had used him.

Licking her dry lips, she said timidly, "Nobody can know, Severus."

His glare was sharp and piercing. "Suddenly forgot we were friends? No longer trust me?"

"No, I—"

"I'll keep your secrets," Snape forced out, shaking her off him. "I…I need to think for a while."

"You have to promise," Hermione quickly held out her hand. "Promise you will tell nobody of what you learned about me today."

Severus stared at her. Narrowing his eyes, he gruffly took her hand. "I  _promise_ ," he growled, and then withdrew. "Now I would appreciate," he began quietly, "if you would respect my wishes, and allow me to think."

"Y-yes," Hermione agreed unsteadily, watching him retreat. He closed the door, and she heard him close the portrait door.

Hermione dropped her head in her hands, body shaking.

**xxx**

Remus was sitting quietly in the common room, the walls growing dark as the sun set outside. He reread the same line five times, until he finally snapped the book closed in frustration. At this rate, he would barely get a Troll in the O.W.L.s.

It was almost time. Checking the clock, he saw he had about an hour before he was to head to McGonagall's office in preparation. Glancing around the common room, he noticed that it was abnormally crowded with fifth-years, though understandably. Each of his housemates was either buried in a book or scribbling furiously on stacks of parchment. Some were even practicing spells on the far corner of the room, with cheerful encouragement coming from the portraits looking over the students' progress.

To say he was disappointed when he didn't see his best mates around on this particular night was one way to look at it. Remus was past feeling angry and hurt. He was resigned, and accepted what was unraveling before him.

A sudden thump of footsteps caught Remus's attention. Hermione had just walked out of her dormitory, her eyes world-weary and slightly pale. She shuffled over to the empty sofa near the fireplace, and reached for the book that was sitting there. It seemed she hadn't noticed him, for she did not look his way nor acknowledge his presence.

_And why should she?_ A dark look passed over Remus. Of course she would not speak to him.  _He_  was currently keeping away from her, was he not?

He thought of James, Sirius, and Peter, and began to frown.

"Hello," Remus blurted, before Hermione could walk away. She jumped a little, as if she hadn't expected anyone to notice her.

She blinked. "Evening, Remus. Studying well?"

Her voice was tired, but not unkind. She had a haunted look in her eye—or was it hunted?

"Just barely," he cracked a smile. "Are you staying?"

She followed his gaze to the book in her hand, and smiled slightly. "I was just picking up my book. I thought I'd head in early to bed."

Remus nodded in understanding, feeling his gut twist with guilt at this removed, passive Hermione. Had he caused this? Perhaps this had nothing to do with him at all, but he could not help but feel somewhat responsible. Remus remembered the shock he felt when Peter sat next to her at lunch yesterday—an open defiance to Sirius's suggestion of keeping away. Peter had opted to act on his own, and Remus…well, he could not help but feel envious.

He focused on Hermione's book, and frowned. "That's an interesting text. Anything in particular you're researching, or are you simply fond of unapproved magic?" It was a quip, but he realized quickly that it was a poor choice. Accusing Hermione of dark magic within a minute of speaking to her? Remus was surely going places.

Hermione looked at the book and stiffened. She almost didn't speak, but something in her eyes shifted and she shrugged slightly. "It's more a companion to  _A History of Magic_. I'm looking at the lineages of some spells, like fiendfyre."

Remus nodded eagerly, relieved that she hadn't taken his inquiring the wrong way. "Yes, that's quite an old spell, I think. Horribly tricky, even for Dark Arts meddlers."

Hermione nodded vaguely. "Yes. It's proving to be quite tricky to understand, let alone trace its history. Whoever even tries to use this spell is insane."

Remus nodded politely, then looked around awkwardly as silence ensued between them.

"It's going to be a full moon," she murmured, looking away from his suddenly stiffened form and staring outside the window.

"Yes," he managed, his fingers twitching. "I do believe so." Hermione was looking at him sadly, and appeared to want to say something more before she was interrupted.

"Beautiful night tonight, don't you think?" James's voice suddenly appeared behind them. Hermione stiffened and saw James walking near the fireplace, with Peter and Sirius climbing through the portrait hole behind him. James caught Hermione's eyes and tried to smile a little, wearing an expression of guilt and hope. Hermione did not know what to think of his friendliness, and chose to look away.

James sagged a little in disappointment, but brightened when Sirius and Remus sidled up with him. "Fancy a stroll, Remus?"

Remus blinked up at them, perplexed. "I—what?"

"Come, now," Sirius grinned cheerfully and hauled Remus to his feet. "I hear there's a surprise with your name on it, just waiting for you out the door."

"I don't understand," Remus stammered, and shot an apologetic look to Hermione as they pushed him through the portrait hole. James was the last to leave, and he threw a lingering glance in Hermione's direction. "Goodnight," he called, waving hesitantly. Hermione, surprised, could do nothing but stare and wave back.

**xxx**

"What is it?" Remus snapped when they'd stepped through the Room of Requirement. "Are you all mental? I have to leave in a half-hour, McGonagall will be expecting me—"

"Ask her to let you transform in the Shrieking Shack again," Sirius asked suddenly. Remus frowned, his brows bunching together in confusion.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because," James stepped forward, "You have a reason to go there now. You won't be alone."

"Of course I will be alone," Remus said slowly. "What are you three playing at?"

"You know how, these past few weeks, you've seen us all slip away?" Peter began hesitantly. Remus shifted his eyes to the three, and nodded uncomfortable. "Well, we weren't messing around, and we weren't excluding you."

"Well that feels loads better to know. Thank you for informing me," Remus retorted sarcastically, and moved to push past them. Sirius caught him by the arm.

"He's right, Remus," he said seriously. "We weren't goofing off. We were waiting until it was perfected—and I'm only sorry it's taken this long."

"Taken this long for what?" asked Remus in exasperation. James and Sirius exchanged significant looks, and then to Peter.

"We might as well show him," Sirius shrugged. Looking grim, the three stepped away from Remus and closed their eyes.

Remus's mouth fell open in shock as a stag, a shaggy dog, and a rat stood in the places where his three best friends had been standing not a second ago. The transformation had been instantaneous, quicker than the blink of an eye, and it was all Remus could do not to jump in shock.

"What…you…!"

The dog—Sirius—ran around him playfully and put his paws on front of Remus's shirt. Remus knelt down in awe, grabbing the dog on either side of the head, and looked into his eyes.

They were grey, just like Sirius's, and they were staring contemplatively back at him.

"Merlin's beard," Remus breathed, jolting a little when a pair of antlers nudged his leg. James was wont for attention as well, and Remus saw that Peter—little, squeaky, ratty Peter—had climbed on James's back.

Remus stepped away and watched the animals transform back into human form. All three were fighting grins, and looked to Remus as if waiting for approval.

Remus had no words. His mouth opened and closed, until he spluttered, "Have you all gone  _mad_?"

The grins faded. "Aren't you happy, Remus?" James asked in confusion.

"Why would I be happy?" Remus asked incredulously.

"We—we learned to be Animagi!" Sirius exclaimed. "It took a lot of bloody effort, but it was worth it. Now you don't have to be alone when you transform, Remus. Don't you see? This is a  _good_ thing?"

"No, it's not," retorted Remus hotly. "Did you even think what would happen if anyone were to find out? You're underage and you're unregistered—what will happen if you get caught? Azkaban is not short of empty cells, you know."

"Don't be dramatic, Remus," Peter snapped. "No one will find out, just as nobody else knows about your secret."

"I like to think of it as his furry little problem," Sirius added thoughtfully. Remus was shaking his head violently.

"It's as if you have all gone deaf! Haven't you heard me? It isn't safe! And if you think I am going to put my best friends in danger and rip their animal throats out when I turn into a werewolf—"

"You wouldn't do that," James said gently. "You're a danger to  _humans._ I think the mortality rate goes down a bit with other creatures. And you wouldn't feel threatened, so it's not like you would lash out at us."

"No," Remus said firmly. "I won't do this. I will  _not_."

"I'm afraid you've got no choice in the matter," Sirius said in an equally challenging voice. "You're my best mate, my brother. We've sat back and watched you suffer alone through this long enough. And we're going to be with you every full moon, right at your side, chasing rabbits and scratching trees and keeping you safe from the arseholes that could attack you like last time."

Remus was still shaking his head. He whispered, "Why?"

Sensing that the fight was going out of him, Sirius stepped forward and slung his arm around Remus's shoulders.

"Remus," he said quietly. "We would do anything for you. If the roles were reversed, wouldn't you do the same? Would you listen if I tried to stop you?"

Remus sighed wretchedly, and looked away.

"Al-alright. But I cannot guarantee I'll even get permission to do so," Remus warned. He sighed again when the three ushered him out of the room and into McGonagall's office. Needless to say she was appalled that Remus suggested to transform in the shrieking shack, and had outright refused—but then Dumbledore was there as well, back from his journey, with his keen, twinkling eyes had narrowed on Remus's face, and had asked him gravely, "Would you feel safer?"

Remus, dumbstruck, nodded fervently, and was shocked at Dumbledore's smile when he acquiesced. He went back into the hall looking every bit as numb as he felt, and told his friends the news.

"I don't agree with this," he mumbled throughout their journey to the Shrieking Shack. And when they arrived, he began to refuse their presence.

"Remus," James started exasperatedly.

"Okay look," Remus said sternly. "You three will stay a good ten feet away from me once I transform. If I snap at you, get the hell out. I don't care if we're best friends, I will  _not_  have your bloods on my hands."

"We understand, Remus," Sirius said quietly. Remus nodded quickly, nearly shaking.

"Good," he said almost breathlessly, "good."

He ushered them away so he could strip down, tucking the clothes safely in the passageway. He waited, and he was trembling heavily at the thought that his friends could be injured in less than a minute.

Before he could open his mouth one last time to shout at them to leave, the first beam of moonlight entered the Shack. He stiffened, feeling his body crunching inside him, and Remus let out a low moan.

Sirius, James, and Peter held their breath as Remus began to transform. It looked violent and painful, and within moments the trio transformed into their animal counterparts.

Then, they waited.

The wolf was hunched over, breathing rapidly. The shaggy dog licked his nose and decided to be the first to pad over him. The stag shivered, its eyes alert and filled with alarm.

At first, the wolf howled and swiped at the dog. It missed by a hairsbreadth and the dog snapped its mouth at the paw, pouncing around the wolf.

And, amazingly, the wolf played along.

The stag, with the rat sitting astride it, walked slowly to the pair, but within moments they all began to poke around each other in animal content.

**xxx**

The book was shaking in her hand.

The book, the  _final_ book that had planned to read about fiendfyre, was shaking in her hand.

She had read it. She had gone to the restricted session, cloaked with a Disillusionment charm, and stole the book in the dead of the night. She poured into its contents until daybreak, and stared numbly out the window until the rest of the Gryffindors began to wake up.

"Bugger," she finally whispered, and closed her eyes.

She ate breakfast in the library. She knew Severus wanted his space, so she had given it to him for the past few days. The Slytherin table was off-limits now, and she was still not too happy with sitting at her own House's table.

The book trembled in her grip as she waited by the Black Lake. She knew this was his usual spot, had seen him strutting about here enough times to know when to avoid him. But she was not looking to avoid him any longer.

_This will be the death of you. You can't trust him. He's a pureblood. He enjoys the dark arts. He_ _will_ _betray you!_

These thoughts went through her mind hundreds of times, and continued when she saw the figure approach. She made no attempt to conceal herself, and crossed her arms when he stopped in his tracks.

A smile spread on his lips slowly. "What did I say, Granger?"

Hermione did not look away. She bit the inside of her cheek, waiting for him to live it up.

"I think I said," he sauntered over to her, smirking proudly, "that the next time we meet, it would be  _you_ coming to me. Seems I was right."

"Yes, yes," Hermione said impatiently. "Have you finished gloating?"

"Not nearly, but continue," Scabior grinned wickedly. He settled against a nearby tree, crossing his feet and arms, and waited patiently for her to speak.

Hermione cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably on her feet, and stuck her chin up. "Well, I've been doing some reading."

"Oh?"

"And I found something rather interesting in a book."

"You don't say."

"About a bit of magic, that I'm sure you're very familiar of," Hermione said quite stiffly, as if she were forcing the words to come out saccharinely polite. She breathed evenly through her nose and recollected herself. Standing straighter, she announced, "Considering, of course, it is your family lineage that created the spell."

"Ah!" Scabior brightened, and clapped twice mockingly. "I see a  _lumos_  spell hovering over your head, Granger. Took you long enough to figure it out."

"Yes, well," Hermione coughed uncomfortably. "There it is."

"There it is," Scabior repeated lightly. "What do you want from me, then? To teach you?"

Hermione's eyes widened comically. "No. No, no, I-I was just curious. I'm always in search for information, to better educate myself. I thought it would be…beneficial, to ask from the source, as it is at my disposal."

"Hmm," was Scabior's thoughtful response. "There's one itty problem, dearest." Hermione frowned, and Scabior leaned closer until he was towering over her. He pointed his thumb to himself. "Slytherin, remember? I ain't doing nothin' unless there's a benefit for me. And sorry to say, love, but you're not my type."

" _Not your_ —" Hermione spluttered, then quickly snapped her mouth closed. "I'm sure we can think of something."

"I'm sure we can," he nodded in agreement. "Like writing my next two Charms essays."

Hermione burst out laughing. "You really think that would work? Copying homework in a  _Charms_  class? Flitwick would know in an instant."

"Not asking you to  _copy_ them," Scabior looked at her as if she was daft. "I want you to write me a draft. Spare me the extra work. I'll rewrite in my own words an' all, see? I have better things to put this—" he his head, "—to use on."

"Clearly," Hermione muttered.

"Well?"

"How about I  _help_  you write them?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"You will be helping."

"No, I mean I'll just sit and help, like a guide! Surely that's much fairer."

"Fair?" Scabior began to frown. "Who said anything about fair? Spending every damn day with  _you_  to work on—" Suddenly he paused. "On second thought," he said vaguely, "I think that's a great idea. Yes. You and I will work together. Together, on these papers. And I'll be teaching you about me family spell."

Hermione grew suspicious at the pleased look in Scabior's eye. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Hmm?" he murmured distractedly. "Nothing, love. Merlin, a bloke stares into space and suddenly he's plotting the worst."

Hermione continued to stare at him warily. Scabior brightened and took her by the arm. "No time to start than now, then."

"Now? I thought—"

"I thought you wanted to learn?" Scabior asked, not-so-innocently. Hermione bit her lip.

"If anybody asks, I'm helping with your essay," Hermione said tersely.

"Don't want anybody to know where your interests lie, is that it?" asked Scabior with a raised brow. Hermione stiffened.

"Not at all. I'm just not keen on being harassed by your other, less genial friends."

"Ah, them," Scabior acknowledged. "Hard to get around their thick skulls, honestly. They're just a bit of fun; time-passing, even."

"Your idea of fun is very different from mine," Hermione muttered as they walked towards the castle.

"And yet here you are, asking me about bloody fiendfyre," said Scabior in a surprisingly dark voice, which made Hermione pause in her fast steps. "You know why you're so interesting, Granger?"

Hermione swallowed. Scabior leaned forwards so that they were eye-level.

"You walk like a Gryffindor, you talk like a Gryffindor, you even wear their robes—but inside, when you think no one's looking, you're no more a Gryffindor than I am. And if that isn't bloody exciting, I don't know what is."

Hermione's heart pounded as he straightened, his words reverberating in her skull. Mutely, she followed him inside, her head swimming in thoughts as they made for the library.

It was difficult finding a secluded seat that was not taken by every fifth year in the school. As the O.W.L. exams were now a mere two weeks away, panic had fallen over the fifth years. Scabior grimaced in disgust when a girl in the far corner of the library burst into tears, dropping her head on a very large textbook.

"Amateurs," Scabior muttered.

"Don't start," Hermione muttered. "You're making me help you with two essays, you're no better."

"Not because I don't understand it. I just don't want to  _do_ it," Scabior shot back. They settled into a vacant table nearby, and Hermione took out a few rolls of parchment from her bag, along with a bottle of ink and a quill.

"Your boyfriend is staring at us," Scabior observed bluntly, and Hermione immediately straightened and looked in the direction Scabior was.

It was Severus. He glanced away, but it was clear he had been watching the two since they'd arrived in the library. Hermione tried to make eye contact with him, but he was firmly avoiding her and had turned in his chair so that his back was to her. Hermione let out a soft sigh, and returned her attention to Scabior.

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione muttered. Truthfully—and for some ridiculous reason—she had expected to see either Sirius or Severus. But she could see why Severus was given such a title. They had become such close friends, and had spent nearly all their time together once she broke from the Marauders.

How long would he ignore her? It was killing her, knowing that he  _knew_  but refused to talk to her. She hated not knowing what was going on in his mind.

"Is that an invitation?" Scabior asked hopefully.

Hermione shot him a glare that only earned her a grin.

"Right then. Fiendfyre. What do you want to know?"

Hermione blinked at his direct question. "Er, what do you want to tell?"

With a glint in his eye, Scabior huffed. "You see what I mean? Sneaky. You should've been in our House."

"I don't think that would work out. 'Dirty blood' and all."

"Ah," Scabior blinked as if he'd forgotten about that aspect of her. "Right. Best you stay where you are, then. But you haven't answered my question."

Hermione twisted her mouth unsurely. How would she ask this?  _Tell me how to use it and put it out?_

"Tell me…how it started. With your family."

"Well," he began, steepling his fingers. "It's very old magic. Traced it back about six hundred years. My family was the one to create it."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Why was something as horrific and indestructible as fiendfyre necessary?"

" _Nearly_  indestructible, Granger," Scabior corrected. "And why does any spell, dark or not, exist? It's a means to an end."

"But clearly went vague on the 'end' part," Hermione muttered. Scabior raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on. You know what I mean. It's almost impossible to execute the spell and put it out as well. The fire burns forever."

Scabior looked at her closely, then a smile grew on his lips. "Is that what the books have been telling you?"

Hermione furrowed her brows, and nodded slowly. Scabior looked extremely pleased.

"My, my. Looks like the family legacy hasn't died yet," he said proudly.

"What do you mean?"

Scabior tilted his head. "I mean what I mean. The books got it wrong."

"You mean it doesn't burn forever?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

Scabior barked out a laugh. "Simpler than that, Granger. It can be put out. But it seems not many people have figured out  _how_."

Hermione let his words sink in. Put out? But how? She had scoured every book she could find, researched until her eyes were ready to bleed, and yet there was no word on how to stop the spell once it started.

"I can see your neurons firing like mad. Frustrating, isn't it? Not knowing everything." Scabior leaned over the table. "I'll let you in on a secret though. How does one ever put out a spell? Any spell? Come now, Granger, I know you to be clever."

Hermione blinked. Then, her eyes widened. "Counter spell," she breathed. "You know the counter spell. That's why none of the books could mention it—they didn't  _know_  it!"

She hadn't realized how close she was to him, or how animated she had gotten in her excitement, until she heard a loud screech of a wooden chair and hard footsteps to her right. Hermione jerked away and caught the sight of Snape exiting the library just in time. Suddenly the beauty of her discovery began to fade, and Hermione frowned in her lap.

"Hermione?"

She looked up and caught Scabior's uncertain look. "Thank you, Scabior," she said sincerely. "Let's start on that essay."

**xxx**

" _Five points from Gryffindor, for being an insufferable know-it-all."_

Inwardly, Severus Snape flinched yet again, for what seemed to be the tenth time that day.

It had been two weeks since the incident. Two weeks, without a word of hello or goodbye to the girl who had come and changed his entire life. Two weeks, and Severus still felt every bit betrayed and confused as he did the day it happened.

Severus tried very hard not to think of what he had seen. Most days, he could almost forget. But then that forgetfulness would nearly make him fall in step with Hermione Granger in the hallways when he caught sight of her, and then he would stop himself. He wasn't quite ready for that. Not just yet.

But then on days like these, when he was sitting in a crowded library with students chatting frantically like tiny bugs fluttering around him, his mind drifted to the memories he unknowingly peered into. Had seen the gaunt, thin, cynical man he would be in twenty years. From the looks of it, he had grown worse as the years progressed. He did not seem happier in the future, from what little Hermione had inadvertently revealed to him in her memories. He was even crueler than he was now, and that thought truly frightened him.

It seemed, Severus thought bitterly, that he was not meant to be happy even in the future.

Many things began to make sense, however. How Hermione seemed to know things more than she ought to have known. How she easily performed sixth and seventh year spells without even realizing. How rarely she seemed to the study the course material (though her nose was always buried in books), yet she passed with flying colors.

Truth be told, he understood. He knew,  _logically_ , why Hermione would keep this a secret. He knew why should would never tell him, or anyone else, about her secrets. Had he been in her position, he would not hesitate to do the same.

Regardless… _regardless_ …

Severus started when he saw the foolish flirt of a Slytherin strut into the library, but alongside Hermione Granger. He blinked several times, as if trying to clear the image. But it remained the same—Hermione was now sitting with Scabior at a vacant table, looking dually annoyed and hopeful.

He watched them for several moments. They discussed and bantered, grinned and frowned. The longer he watched, the more irritated he became. She had done this before, with so many others. He knew her to have spoken with Regulus. The marauders. Scabior. And himself.

What was Hermione Granger doing in 1975?

Severus closed his eyes, warding off the intense wave of anger. It was foolish to behave this way. She had a purpose here, and one that the greatest sorcerer of all time had bestowed upon the young girl. She was brave, he would give her that.

But alas, it would be naïve to forget that Severus Snape was still a teenage boy, nearly sixteen, and full of thoughts and tempers that fought defiantly against the logic that his brain attempted to resurface.

And when he watched Hermione lean dangerously close to the Slytherin, completely enraptured, Severus had had enough.

Betrayal. Yes, that was what it was. Not to himself, but to their friendship. Secret or not, she had hurt him. She would have been better off not being friends with him at all. Not if she knew him in the future. Not when he had been her professor.

The joke he had made with him calling her 'professor' during their Occlumency lesson now made him sick.

She had fooled them all, including Severus, and it was not something he could tolerate for very long. She had fooled  _him_ , tricked him, into being her friend. She had made a mockery of him, and would probably have exacted some revenge on behalf of his future-self, for a crime he had not committed yet.

Angry, betrayed, and utterly alone, Severus swiftly exited the library and headed towards the dungeons.

It was at this inopportune moment that Severus bumped heavily against a group of boys. "Watch where you're going," he hissed dangerously, and noticed when it was too late that he had bumped into the four infamous buffoons.

"I'd watch myself if I were you," James Potter said haughtily, raking his hand through his hair as was habit.

"Hold your tongue, filth," Severus growled. It was Sirius who spoke next, his expression blank and his words full of mockery.

"You should invest in some shampoo, Snivelly. It'll take me weeks to get these grease stains out of my robes." Immediately Severus drew out his wand, and Sirius had his out instantly.

"Give me one good reason not to hex you purple," Severus said softly. Sirius and James stared down at Severus fiercely.

"I hope I qualify as a good reason," a kind voice interrupted. Sirius and Severus jumped back, eyes wide as they stared at the headmaster not three feet away from them. Immediately they stuffed their wands in their robes, not daring to look at each other.

Dumbledore's eyes were bright and knowing, and his hands were folded behind his back. He stepped forward and looked at them gently. "I would hope that my students would focus their magic towards their exams, rather than on each other."

"Yes sir," Sirius and Severus said in unison.

"Sorry, sir," Sirius added quietly. Severus remained silent, and merely stared at the headmaster. Dumbledore nodded genially and watched as Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus began quickly walking away. Sirius shot one last loathing look at Severus while Dumbledore had his head turned, and disappeared.

Severus knew he should leave now, for he did not want a longer conversation with the headmaster than necessary. But something in him stopped his movements, and he found himself gazing at the wizened old man. This wizard, in twenty years' time, would be responsible for sending a teenaged girl into the past? He could not believe that Dumbledore would ever do something so foolish, and yet…he had. And Severus, for all he was worth, was going to stare at the man until he understood why.

Dumbledore caught his gaze and his smile brightened. "Is there anything you wanted to say, Mr. Snape?"

"No sir," Severus said automatically.

"Are you certain?"

Severus looked at Dumbledore for a moment before replying, "Yes, sir." Quietly, before he could say another word, Severus turned around and walked away from Professor Dumbledore.

He did not entirely like what he found in those bright, blue eyes.

**xxx**

The day Hermione was dreading the most had finally arrived.

The O.W.L.s were nearing their end. It was the second to last one now—Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was surprisingly easier this time, considering her own O.W.L.s had been with Umbridge, and Fred and George had set off never-ending and multiplying fireworks in the test room. A missing Dumbledore, Peeves cackling like mad up and down the halls, and Harry collapsing shortly afterward—it had been chaotic. In fact, it had been the worst day of her fifth year, for it was shortly after  _that_  when the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries had happened.

But Hermione was not afraid of zapping to the Ministry of Magic this time, nor was Dolores Umbridge her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. No, she was dreading what she knew was to happen this day—unless her presence in this decade had changed at least that much.

She glanced between Severus and Sirius, then James. They seemed to be willfully ignoring each other, focused intently on their exams. Sirius seemed far too relaxed for his own good, but she knew well enough that he was in the top five percent of his class already. He gloated with good reason, yet it did not make Hermione any less pleased about it.

Suppressing a sigh, Hermione redirected her attention to the exam paper in front of her. It was filled entirely with her neat handwriting, little notes and explanations flooding the pages. She had finished fifteen minutes ago, and was going through her third revision. Handing it in early seemed far too overconfident, so Hermione decided to bide her time and wait.

"Quills down," Professor Flitwick squeaked, indicating the examination was now over. There were several panicked squeaks and even more sighs of relief. Hermione remained silent, and merely stretched her arms a bit before lowering her quill to the desk.

Finally, it was over.

The daunting thought was accompanied with the amount of information Scabior had revealed to her last week. They had finished the Charms essays together, (she had done most of the writing, and Scabior had smirked through nearly all of it), and in between writings he would tell more and more about the creation of the curse. He did not tell her the counter spell to fiendfyre, however, which frustrated her beyond measure. What good was he if not to help with the main purpose!

_Patience_ , Hermione repeated to herself. A little bit of patience was all she needed. Soon,  _soon_ , she would know. But she had to be patient. She was, after all, dealing with the most unpredictable Slytherin she had ever met.

Hermione was packing her things when Hermione felt a sudden burning sensation press against her chest. Gasping, Hermione lifted her hands to her throat and stiffened, tremors running up and down her frame.

"Hermione?"

It was Sirius. Damnation to hell.

"Hello," she managed, gritting her teeth. This hadn't happened in  _months_ , why was it happening now?

"Are you alright?" he murmured under his breath. She looked to his eyes, and saw genuine concern in them. Not ghostly suspicion.

Her eyes narrowed on their own, and before she could stop she found herself saying, "As if you care."

Sirius's eyes widened as he stiffened as well. His mouth forming a grim line, he looked away and sank in his seat in boredom, tossing a lazy look to James who was behind him.

Shut down. From her. Hermione sighed a little and shook her head.

Her eyes wandered over to Severus. His nose had been barely an inch away from the parchment, but he now straightened in his seat and set his quill down. His hair flopped to the other side, stringy and shinier than usual, his expression blank and unusually drawn. He caught her stare before she could look away, and Hermione shifted in embarrassment. She tried to smile, but it simply would not form. Thus they merely watched each other from across the room, not knowing how to look away.

Another shiver ran through her, this time hotter and even more painful, and Hermione's eyes squeezed shut.

When they reopened Severus had a look of alarm on his face. He gave her a questioning look—oh, how she missed it, and her heart twisted all on its own—and Hermione shook her head, as if to dismiss it. Once her paper was collected, Hermione knew she had to get out. She could not stay any longer, not with this abnormal pain. She feared it was the effects of the Cruciatus, but somehow it felt different. It was more painful, if that was even possible.

She spared no glance at anybody else, and ran to Gryffindor tower. Choking out the password, Hermione stumbled inside and ran up the flight of stairs to her dormitory, and fell to her bed. She yelped when it brought no relief. Suddenly, she noticed something peculiar—a light, coming from beneath her bed. Eyes wide with disbelief, Hermione sank to her knees and threw out her trunk. It burned at the touch and Hermione whipped out her wand, disabling the enchantments and bringing out what she feared to retrieve.

The horcrux was glowing.

Hermione's breath was stolen away. How? Why was this…? Hermione dared not touch it, lest it harm her even more than it already was. The diadem was glowing, as if being superheated to an unimaginable temperature.

Suddenly, dread filled Hermione.

She had felt the pain of this glowing. Her body knew that the horcrux was acting up. Her body had  _known_.

In horror, Hermione quickly threw the diadem back inside the trunk and placed the extra charms back on it. It still glowed faintly from underneath her bed, but it was nothing a good cloaking spell couldn't cover.

She needed to destroy the horcrux fast. And it seemed Scabior would be her only way out.

**xxx**

"Very well, everybody, you are free to go!" Flitwick squeaked finally, having forgotten to announce it at one point after falling deeply into conversation with a nearby fifth-year. The students cheered and started piling out of the room.

"Did you like question ten, Moony?" Sirius asked with a grin. He relished in the new nickname, one of four that they had come up with amongst themselves.

"Think I did," said Remus seriously, as they joined the crowd around the front doors and anxious to get out into the sunlit grounds. "One: he's sitting on my chair. Two: he's wearing my clothes. Three: his name's Remus Lupin."

Remus grinned when his friends laughed, feeling lighter than he ever had before. Having his friends accompany him on his last transformation had changed everything. He had not thought it possible, but he had never felt more alive.

Peter was the only one who looked thoughtful.

"I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes and the tufted tail,' he said anxiously, 'but I couldn't think what else –"

"How thick are you, Wormtail?" said James impatiently. "You run around with a werewolf once a month –"

"Keep your voice down," implored Lupin.

"I  _happened_  to be joking," Peter said dryly.

They all wandered outside, settling down by the Black Lake near a mossy tree. Severus had been trailing behind, however, his attention distracted by the exam paper in his hands. He plopped himself down by a set of bushes, nearly overshadowed by them as he hunched down.

Sirius, leaning against the tree, announced, "I'm bored. Wish it was the full moon."

Remus gave Sirius a dark look. "You might. We still have Transfiguration next. Be useful and test me."

Sirius gave a pinched look to the outstretched book and shook his head. "I don't need to look at that rubbish. I remember everything just fine."

"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," James said quietly. Sirius followed James's line of sight, and smiled.

"Excellent," he murmured. "Snivellous."

Snape was currently busy reading over his examination, a frown etching his forehead. What most would not know, however, was the concern lurking in his eyes as he periodically cast glances up towards the Gryffindor tower. He knew Hermione had fled there as quickly as she could, before Flitwick could even properly dismiss them, and while he had misgivings for her, he could not squash the tremor of concern he had for her pained look before she left.

It was this distraction that caused Severus to fail to notice Sirius and James's intent stares. Remus frowned in disapproval as he looked up from the book he'd been pouring into.

"We  _just_  spoke with Dumbledore," Peter protested, but to deaf ears. Remus wanted more than anything to go back to his book, wishing that his friends would not do what he feared they would. And as much as he wished, he knew he would not be reading a single word on the page if he were to try. Silently he closed the book, and rose to his feet.

"Don't," he warned quietly to Sirius. Sirius half-glanced in Lupin's direction, and appeared as if he was considering his words, but his expression changed and he turned away.

"All right, Snivellous?" James asked loudly.

Severus stiffened, the paper shaking in his hand. It was spoken differently than before. A challenge. Something he had not heard in a very long time, not since…

The incident where Hermione had intervened.

"Finally off your leash, Potter?" Severus said quietly, folding the paper into his bag. "Did Granger reward you for being a  _good little boy_  these past few months?"

James, who had no real plans to do more harm than poke fun at his arch-enemy, suddenly grew stiff with anger. Both drew out their wands simultaneously, but Severus was a half-second too late. Before he could utter a spell, James shouted, " _Expelliarmus!_ " Severus's wand flew twelve feet away.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, and shouted, " _Impedimenta!_ " when Severus made a dive for his wand. Remus rushed beside Sirius and gripped his arm tightly, as if in warning.

"You—wait," Severus panted, looking up at James and Sirius with pure loathing, "you—wait!"

"Wait for what?" said Sirius coolly. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

"That's enough, Sirius," Remus said quietly.

They winced when Severus let out a slew of curses, and James grimaced.

"Wash your mouth, if not your head," said James coldly. " _Scourgify!_ "

Severus choked wildly as pink soap bubbles filled and foamed in his mouth, gagging him—

"Leave him ALONE!"

James stiffened immediately, turning to the source of the shout with a fidget.

"All right, Evans?" he asked kindly, as if Snape was not lying on the ground writhing.

"Leave him alone," Lily repeated angrily. "What's he done to you?"

"It's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean," James tilted his head thoughtfully, speaking more to himself than to her.

"You think you're so cool," Lily shook her head in disgust. "You're just a bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him  _alone_."

"And what do I get in return?" James inquired softly.

Lily glowered. "If you're going off on me dating you, it's never going to happen. Now let him go."

James shook his head. "Ah, ah. Name your price."

Lily was revolted. "Has your sister taught you  _nothing?_  You're just the same, vile creature you were at the beginning of the year. I thought you had changed."

James appeared hurt for the first time that evening, and began to reconsider the wand in his hand that was point towards Severus. Conflicted, he began to lower his wand, when Severus lunged free from the spell and shot a curse at James that just barely nicked his cheek.

"OI!" Sirius shouted, and threw a spell at him that caused him to levitate in the air, frozen.

"STOP!" Lily screamed. "You let him down right now.  _Now!_ "

James, who had been silent, removed the spell and Severus fell to his knees. "You're lucky Evans was here," James muttered tonelessly.

And before he could stop them, prevent the wretched words from spilling from his lips, Severus allowed the humiliation and defeat raging in his body overtake his mind, as he yelled:

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Lily blinked. "Fine," her voice was even. "I won't bother in the future. Continue."

"Apologize to Evans!" James and Sirius roared.

"I don't want  _you_ to make him apologize!" Lily rounded on James. "You're just as bad!"

"What?" James spluttered. "I would  _never_  call you a—you-know-what!"

Lily shook her head in plain disgust. "Strutting about the halls messing with your hair, hexing students in the corridors because you think them beneath you—you will get nowhere in life, James Potter. You make me SICK."

She ran to the castle, and before anyone could think to stop him, Severus bolted after her.

Remus looked away from James and Sirius, and met Peter's eyes briefly. He bent down and picked up the forgotten book, and walked away.

**xxx**

Hermione had finally calmed down enough to feel the tremors fade from her body. The horcrux had stopped glowing on its own. Why in the name of Merlin did it glow? And why was Hermione able to  _feel_ it?

Hermione jumped from her thoughts when the dormitory door slammed open.

"Lily?" Hermione asked cautiously as Lily began throwing on her night clothes.

"If you hear banging outside the portrait hole, tell him to go away," Lily said stiffly. Her eyes appeared puffy, but otherwise she was completely calm. Hermione's eyes widened in horror.

"Lily?" she repeated, but to no avail. Lily had taken to collapsing on her bed, back turned to Hermione, and pretending to fall asleep. Heart thudding wildly, Hermione sprang from her bed and leapt down the staircase into the common room.

"Hermione," Remus said suddenly. She looked at him in a panic, and Remus was taken aback. "I—I'm…" he trailed, as if saying more was useless. She glanced briefly at James and Sirius, who were sitting quietly by the fireplace, when she heard loud banging on the portrait hole.

Marching towards it with her stomach fluttering wildly, she opened the door.

Severus was sitting cross-legged before the door. His clothes were in complete disarray, his head in his hands, and seemed to be waiting.

"Severus?"

He looked up immediately, his eyes desperate.

"I didn't mean to," he rasped wildly, eyes bloodshot as if he had been crying. "I have to tell her I'm sorry. I didn't mean a single word. Could you—could you tell her I'm here?"

Hermione swallowed thickly, and whispered, "Oh, Severus," she said softly. "She's not coming."

He stilled at her words, and for a very long time they remained that way, their eyes connected for an eternity. Then his eyes misted over, as if lost in thought, and he looked numbly away.

"I'll stay all night," he murmured inaudibly. Hermione shuffled hesitantly towards him, unsure what to do. This was the first he had spoken to her since their Occlumency lesson, and she didn't want to damage more than what was already broken.

Tentatively, she sat on her knees beside him. She patted his shoulder gently, shocked at the trembling she found there. His face was expressionless and his eyes dry, but there was a numbness and a terror inside him that Hermione had never seen in Severus before.

He had done what she had feared. Nothing, not even her, could stray from what fate had already ingrained in the fabric of time. Severus was shaking, and Hermione knew then, just how much Lily was to him. She would have felt the same for Ron, if the roles were reversed. It was friendship rooted deeply, winding and twining together until they became inseparable. And Snape had severed the only bond he ever loved.

They stayed there until it became dark. It was only until a prefect had warned to give them detention that she managed to get Severus to his feet. She kept a gentle but firm grip on his forearm as she walked with him to the dungeons. He was terrifyingly silent throughout the journey.

As they stopped before the entrance of the Slytherin dorm, Severus rounded on Hermione. Eyes wide, he said urgently, "I didn't mean it, Hermione. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, and I don't mean it for you."

Hermione, heart panging wildly, replied quietly, "I know, Severus."

A flicker of recognition showed briefly in his eyes, before they returned to the dull, deadened gaze.

"So it would seem."


	12. Fiendfyre

The morning began with rain.

Dreary clouds overcast England, dark and billowing in sweeping movements. An occasional rumble of thunder could be heard, preceded by a quick flash of light.

The Noble House of Black was silent, except for a faint sound in the kitchen. A small, squash-nosed elf was scrubbing the floor vigorously, his eyes flicking nervously to his mistress between strokes.

As if feeling his gaze, two sharp, black eyes bore into the house elf and a frown twisted on regal features.

"Faster, Kreacher!" she hissed in distaste. "I can't have this place filthy with our guests arriving!" She froze when a clap of thunder vibrated against the windows. She seemed to be holding her breath, and very slowly, walked to the window to peer outside.

Sighing in relief, she drew away and resumed her post nearby the little elf, who was now scrubbing so desperately that welts were beginning to form on his hands.

The mistress of Black Manor smoothed her clothes, relishing the finery of the fabric as she struggled to calm her nerves. The master of the house was still away at business—she scoffed angrily at the thought—but no matter. She did not need him.

Two loud  _cracks_  were heard outside, and she flew to the window. Eyebrows furrowing, she ordered the elf to get the door.

Two women dressed in similarly gaunt clothing sauntered inside the manor. One had dark, curly hair that ran down to the middle of her back, her mouth slanting down with disdain; the other had silken blonde hair and a deep frown etching on her face, though very beautiful all the same. Both were similar yet very different, as they stood silently.

"You," the mistress of the house said coldly, "are late."

"Good to see you too, Aunt Walburga, " the curly-haired woman said tonelessly.

Walburga Black's eyes narrowed as she stared at the two ladies. "Do you have any idea what would have happened if they arrived before you, Bellatrix?"

"Maybe."

"A small idea," the fair-haired woman also replied.

"Don't give me cheek, Narcissa," said Walburga sharply. "The ring on your finger is going to your head."

"She's right, Cissy," the dark-haired woman agreed. "The way you and Lucius Malfoy are almost sickens me."

"Everything sickens you," said Narcissa with a sniff. "Forgive me for being fond of my husband."

"Watch your  _tongue_ —"

" _Enough_."

The two women silenced, and Walburga looked at them severely before turning and walking into the living room. Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange, who were in fact sisters, followed suit.

Narcissa walked into the room and gazed at the wall, lined with fading wallpaper. "You've blasted Sirius," she observed as her fingers traced the scorch marks where a handsome face used to be. Her eyes traveled down further. "And Alphard, it seems."

"They are no longer family to us." Walburga's voice was cold.

"More blood traitors," Bellatrix scowled. "Where did that brat go?"

"The Potters."

Bellatrix's expression darkened, when suddenly a loud  _crack_  was heard outside.

Walburga stilled. Calmly, she said, "Open the door, Kreacher."

Kreacher, who had been silently listening to the exchange while polishing the furniture, bowed deeply. "Yes, mistress."

A man and a woman sauntered into the living room. Bellatrix, who had been very still, began to smile.

"Carrows," she stated with a slight curl of her mouth. "I expected a bit… _more_."

"You'll get your wish,"the squat female hissed as she drew out her wand.

"Not now, Alecto," the man said sharply, halting her arm from rising. "We have  _business_  to attend to." He loosened his grip when she lowered her wand. Turning to Bellatrix, he asked bluntly, "Are you ready?"

"What do you  _think_?" Bellatrix nearly snarled.

"We will search the house," he answered with a slight growl, eyes narrowing on Narcissa. "To ensure the Dark Lord is protected, and that your loyalty is…sound. And what of you?" He jerked his head towards Narcissa.

"Do not speak to my sister like some common witch!" Bellatrix shouted. Narcissa raised a fine brow.

"I am here as a witness," she replied evenly. "As family, it is only right."

"You will not be taking the mark, then?" Alecto's face had taken to a nasty smile. "This will be interesting. Let's go, Amycus. We have to check the house." Alecto did not wait for Amycus to follow, and marched up the staircase as he sauntered about the first floor.

Bellatrix turned her head slightly. "Cissy," she muttered quietly. "It would be best to keep your gaze lowered when he arrives. That fool of a Carrow has a point; you haven't taken the mark."

"But my husband has," she answered equally quietly. "That will be loyalty enough."

Bellatrix looked as if she wanted to say more, but pressed her lips together in a thin line.

Walburga watched the exchange silently. Within a minute the Carrows returned, and Alecto appeared to be slightly disappointed.

"Clean," Amycus declared. He lifted his sleeve and pressed his wand to his forearm. Suddenly a black skull with a snake protruding from its mouth sprouted on his skin, moving in ripples against the tip of the wand.

A single knock was heard against the door. Kreacher did not need to be commanded to open it. The air was thick with tension, as a tall, cloaked figure walked into the room.

All present in the room bowed immediately. Bellatrix bowed more deeply than the rest.

"Rise," a cold voice commanded.

They straightened. "My lord," Bellatrix breathed. "It is truly an  _honor_."

Lord Voldemort watched her, the corner of his mouth twitching. His eyes were sunken, his skin pale and sallow against the dark cloak draped over him. His eyes were narrowed, red-rimmed and calculating, and they bore through Bellatrix as though he could see through her.

"Yes," he answered quietly. "I can see that."

He stepped forward slowly, his eyes pausing over every face. His gaze landed on the Carrows, and they flinched slightly. "Leave."

They were gone immediately. Voldemort stepped closer, until he stood directly in front of Bellatrix. "The witness?"

Narcissa took a small step forward. "I am here, my lord."

She dared not raise her eyes. Though he had done nothing yet, barely even raised his voice, Narcissa felt her body trembling slightly. The dark aura he emitted, just from his presence…she had never felt anything like it.

"I believe a congratulations is in order," said Voldemort, though his words sounded more like mockery. There was a subtle sneer to them, an icy coldness that swept down Narcissa's spine like an electrical current. Hesitantly, she raised her eyes.

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured. He stared at her briefly, and she remembered hearing from Lucius that he could read minds. She kept her thoughts carefully blank, knowing it would not be enough, but hoped he didn't actually care enough to peruse her thoughts.

The latter seemed to prove true, for Voldemort looked away in dismissal and returned his attention to Bellatrix. He reached inside his robes, and the three women stiffened. When he withdrew his hand, a silver pouch was enclosed in his long fingers.

"Your arm, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix, nearly breathless with joy, silently raised her arm. Voldemort raised his own and clasped her upper arm as she followed suit. Narcissa stepped forward and took out her wand, but jolted in surprise when Voldemort snapped his head to look at her. " _I_  will be speaking the terms."

"Of—of course," Narcissa agreed quickly.

Voldemort returned his gaze to Bellatrix. "Bellatrix Lestrange," he said softly, and Narcissa pointed the tip of her wand at their joined arms, "do you swear to protect my possession with your life, and pledge absolute loyalty to Lord Voldemort?"

"I swear," she whispered, and a fine silvery string slithered out of Narcissa's wand and wound itself around their arms.

"Do you swear to keep its location hidden to all but me?"

"I swear." Another string wound itself around them.

"Do you promise to show no mercy for any who dares to attempt thievery of this possession?"

"I swear."

"Should you fail, Bellatrix," Voldemort's tone had gone abnormally quiet, yet it still resounded in the room as if magnified in the terrifying silence, "your punishment will be death."

Narcissa saw it, finally—a flicker of fear. A brief second of reality, of understanding her position and its consequences. Narcissa knew her sister to be intelligent, and had wondered how she let her fanaticism with Lord Voldemort cloud her so completely—but it wasn't until the flicker of fear dissolved into a resolute stare of devotion, did the answer dawn upon Narcissa.

The last of the binding magic leaked from the wand tip, and Voldemort immediately withdrew his arm in distaste. He pressed the pouch into Bellatrix's hands, a sort of cruel smile playing at his lips, and said, "Do not disappoint me."

"I will not, my lord," Bellatrix said firmly.

"I dare say not…nearly to your knees you were, to take upon such a task for me…"

"It is the greatest honor, to do any of Lord Voldemort's bidding!" Bellatrix said passionately.

"Honor, yes…will this shroud the dishonor that is marring the name of your ancestry, I wonder? Are there not three blood traitors in your family now? And one even married a muggle…"

"My sister is dead to me!" Bellatrix shrieked, her face stricken with horror. "I do not associate myself with the likes of Andromeda any longer. She is a  _disgrace_  to the name of wizard—"

Voldemort looked away from her, disinterested. His cold eyes traveled to Narcissa, then finally landed on the Walburga, who had been watching silently at the end of the room.

The effect was immediate. Her back straightened and she lifted her head, though her eyes held the same cold sliver of fear that mirrored Narcissa's. Voldemort made no move towards her, but merely asked softly, "Do you bear good news, Walburga? I have heard from my followers…whispers of allegiance and abandonment…"

"My youngest, my lord," Walburga answered strongly. "He is keen to your teachings. I anticipate his loyalty to you will be a fast one."

"I need your certainty. You have one month."

He was gone. Walburga visibly withered, her hand clutching behind her to support herself against the wall. Bellatrix was doing a fine mix of terror and awed silence, her pale fingers gripping the bag Voldemort had entrusted with her fiercely. Narcissa was swimming with confusion and fear: why had Voldemort not questioned upon her not taking the Dark Mark?

"I must write to Regulus," Walburga said unsteadily, a break from her usually stern character. "I must…yes, excuse me…."

Narcissa barely noticed her departure. Bellatrix seemed to have finally snapped from her reverie, as she now was looking at her sister with emblazoned eyes. "Time to go, Cissy. Our work here is done."

"I must see to Lucius," Narcissa replied distractedly, shrugging her arm away before Bellatrix could grab hold of it. "You heard the Dark Lord. Your task is secret. I cannot know its whereabouts."

Bellatrix looked as if she wanted to protest, but merely pressed her lips together in a line as she realized it was true. Narcissa wasted no time in leaving Grimmauld Place, and darted into a darkened alley before Apparating to her home.

The only indication of her distress was the slight tremble in her hands. She found Lucius in the study, and felt relief wash over her immediately at the sight of him. He looked up at her arrival and a small smile twitched at his lips.

"My dear," he began gaily, but froze when he took in her countenance. "Did something happen at the meeting?"

"No," she attempted a strong voice. "None at all."

Lucius sagged in relief. He strode from his desk and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Our lord is gracious," he whispered, "and to his word. You must have pleased him."

Narcissa would argue that she didn't think it was possible for Voldemort to be pleased, but held her tongue. "Did you say something to him, Lucius? He did not—he didn't ask—"

"I asked for your pardon," Lucius answered quickly. "I assured your loyalty, and that you would not need to take the mark while in the works of having a child."

Narcissa's eyes widened. "But I'm not—"

"I chose my words carefully," Lucius assured as he ran his fingers lightly through her blonde hair. "This is a happy day, Narcissa. You're  _safe_."

Somehow, Narcissa could not fully believe him.

**xxx**

It was perhaps the most silent day Hermione had experienced thus far in 1975.

Which was strange, because everyone was speaking. The Marauders chatted amiably during class and mealtimes; Lily had asked her for a spare quill when her tip disintegrated in Potions class, and she had spent another evening in the library during lunch with Scabior as he explained the long history of his family while she helped outline his Charms essay. It was an average, productive day, yet the amount of unspoken words blared loudly enough that Hermione could almost feel them graze against her.

A full week had passed since the incident with Lily and Severus. The latter had resorted to absolute seclusion, seen only in classes and at supper. He had begun spending more time with his Slytherin friends, ones Hermione knew would be up to no good in the future, out in the courtyard between classes. He didn't appear to say much, merely sat and watched them with a deadened gaze as they conversed and tormented the poor first years silly enough to cross their path.

She had also noticed Sirius throwing glances at the Slytherin table as well. At first she thought he was still brooding about Severus, but after discreetly following his line of vision, she realized this was not true. She could not make out who it was he was looking at, but considering Severus was sitting at the very end of the table, she ruled him out.

Had Hermione turned around completely, she would have noticed Sirius's gaze was set firmly on his younger brother. If anyone else noticed, they did not comment—it was no secret that the Black brothers did not get along, after all.

Sirius was not feeling any of this at the moment. He was focused more on a letter clutched tightly in Regulus's hand underneath the table, after the family owl had swooped down during supper and dropped the envelope onto his plate. It remained unopened, but Sirius recognized this particular insignia immediately.

He waited after the last bell to pull Regulus aside in a darkened corridor.

Regulus immediately drew out his wand, but Sirius easily waved it aside with a disarming spell. Angry at having been beaten so quickly Regulus snarled, " _What?_ "

"I saw Celsus deliver a letter today. Good news?"

Regulus regarded Sirius contemptuously. "The best," he said through his teeth. "Now, if you would—"

Sirius grabbed his elbow to stop him. "Regulus," he dropped his voice. "You know you always have a choice, right?"

For a moment the cold exterior cracked, and Regulus's expression was troubled. "It's not that easy."

Sirius shook his head, his grip loosening. He places both hands on Regulus's shoulders, drawing him closer. "It  _is_. I know what letter you received today, brother. I know its contents, for I received the same one before Christmas." A flash of anger crossed his face, and his grip tightened on Regulus's shoulders. "It's too soon," he growled. "I don't understand why they're starting so early with you."

"Your decline seems to have burdened me with its consequences," Regulus answered, his voice oddly detached.

Sirius drew his head back, his eyes narrowing as his mind worked rapidly. "Are you…do you mean to say, you've changed your mind? You don't fancy the Dark Arts anymore?"

"There  _is_  no Dark Arts, Sirius. There is only magic," Regulus snapped. "I like to practice every part of it. Is that so wrong of me?"

"Only if you use it to hurt. For your own selfish, hungry gain."

Regulus grew quiet.

"How long do you have?" asked Sirius, dropping his hands to his sides.

Regulus closed his eyes. "One month."

Surprised flickered through Sirius's eyes, but he grimly clenched his jaw. "You are a smart boy, Regulus. Once you're in, it will be permanent. You know that your only release will be death."

A cold shiver ran down Regulus's spine. Swallowing, he stiffened his posture and stepped back from Sirius. Without another word, Regulus strode away.

Sirius's gaze lingered on his retreating back, his eyes lost in thought and deeply troubled. He headed back the common room and brooded on a squishy armchair by the fireplace.

Had Regulus genuinely changed his mind? It was still unclear. He looked hesitant, that much was certain. And the way he said it…to be  _burdened_ …

The most Sirius could confirm was that Regulus did not expect this. At least, not so soon. He'd probably thought he would have more time; more time to understand, or to be persuaded otherwise…

His thoughts were interrupted by a pair of loud voices.

"Why not just talk to him? He's been your friend since you were children—"

"I don't  _want_  to talk to him, Hermione."

"He's been lurking by the Fat Lady's portrait for a week now, Lily. I can't keep derailing him. This has to be discussed sooner rather than later."

Sirius glanced up towards the corner of the room, where Lily and Hermione were having a very intense conversation.

Lily was studiously doing her homework with Hermione; the latter appeared torn between two sides, and the former was working with grim determination. Sirius resisted the urge to shake his head. He knew Hermione to be a very smart witch. Why was she still encouraging a friendship between Snape and Lily after what he'd called her? After the loyalty he had always displayed to the Dark Arts?

Sirius wondered on his own actions after Lily's outburst on James. At the time it had seemed like good fun, and an even better distraction…but now….

Lily finally looked up and said something quietly. Hermione's expression changed, and she murmured something in return. Lily nodded. Both girls sighed and sagged in their seats, and Hermione appeared to have resigned her efforts. Lily rubbed her eyes and began packing her things, calling in for an early night and bidding her friends farewell.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably on the wooden seat, stretching out to relieve the tension between her shoulders. She too gathered her things, but did not put them away in her bag. Instead, she wandered over to the armchairs where Sirius was sitting, seeming to have not noticed Sirius. He wondered if she would have chosen to sit here if she had.

When she sank down on the armchair, she flipped open a very large textbook and buried herself in it. Sirius briefly thought of his own schoolwork. There wasn't as much anymore after taking the O.W.L.s, but still enough to cause a headache. Sirius sighed in defeat and took out his wand.

" _Accio schoolbag_ ," he said quietly, and watched his bag come flying from his dormitory and deposit itself onto his lap. His voice startled Hermione, who finally turned to see him sitting near her.

She paused briefly before saying, "Hello."

Sirius nodded his head in acknowledgement as she looked away. They worked in undisturbed silence for twenty minutes, both getting absorbed in their schoolwork. It wasn't until Sirius heard a sharp hiss that he looked up.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione seemed to be fighting down a grimace as she clutched her hand to her chest. "Fine."

Sirius scanned her over, noticing the sweat that had broken out on her brow. "Is this…is this the…?"

Hermione looked at him questioningly before understanding what he meant. She shook her head. "These aren't the after effects of the Cruciatus," she assured quietly. "Those were much, much more intense. You remember."

"So it's something else, then?" Sirius prodded. Hermione remained tight-lipped. "Is this the same from the O.W.L.s?"

Hermione only stared at him, before nodding once. She bit her lip as she did so. She must have been in much pain to set aside her stubbornness and admit it to him.

"Come on," he stood and held his hand. "You have to see Madame Pomfrey."

"No."

"Hermione, don't be foolish. You have to get this checked out, especially if you don't know what it is."

"I don't want to."

Sirius glowered at Hermione as she looked up at him stubbornly. "Well you can't be feeling good staying in here. Why not walk it off? We still have an hour before curfew."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. She seemed to think it over, and glanced up at the girls' dormitory. "Maybe…maybe I should take a walk. It could help…."

Sirius suppressed a sigh of relief. "Let's go then."

Hermione paused to look at him warily. "You still want to go with me?"

Sirius frowned. "Why not?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Sirius stiffened.  _Right_.

"Well, if you don't want me to come with you, that's…also fine."

Hermione shook her head. "No. Some fresh company would do me good. Let's go." She stared in surprise as Sirius helped her up, and walked with her to the portrait.

"Any place in particular you had in mind?" Sirius asked, in effort to fill the awkward silence.

"None in particular."

Sirius shoved his hand in his hair, not knowing how to go about this. It used to be much easier talking to Hermione, before the Christmas incident. He actually  _enjoyed_ her company. It wasn't until now that he realized how much.

But it was different now. And while he was the reason, so was she.

"The Astronomy tower," Hermione declared suddenly, ripping Sirius from his thoughts. She looked up at him firmly. "I'd like to go there for a while."

Sirius nodded. It was a good place to think, standing high above in seclusion, the expanse of Hogwarts grounds lying before them with its rolling hills and glimmering stars. He often came up here himself when he wanted to sort out his thoughts.

When they arrived the sun was just starting to dip behind the horizon. Colors of red and purple streaked across the sky, illuminating the tower as if it were on fire. Hermione immediately went to lean against the edge, the cool wind caressing her upturned face. Sirius watched her serene expression, the way her hair fluttered gently against the breeze. It felt too similar to a dream, enough to make him forget for a moment, the mystery that shrouded around the young girl.

"I feel so out of my depth lately."

The admittance caught Sirius off-guard. He hadn't expected her to speak to him, thinking she would prefer the solace of the fresh air over conversation with someone who had been as unkind to her as Sirius.

"How do you mean?" Sirius asked carefully.

Hermione turned her head to look at him, her eyes boring into his. "I haven't enough time. Things I wanted to complete this year…and there are people who are struggling that I want to help, but nothing I do makes a difference. Not a  _large_  difference, in the long scheme of things," she muttered the last under her breath, but Sirius made no comment. "I've been here for nearly 10 months, and yet it feels like I haven't achieved anything."

Sirius watched her look away in frustration, as if she hadn't meant to tell him those things. He wasn't sure what she was talking about, but the frustration in her expression and tiredness of her voice were genuine.

"I'm not sure what you're exactly referring to," Sirius answered slowly, "but from what you've said, I think you're expecting too much from yourself. You're trying to move mountains when you've only got a shovel."

Hermione did not reply. "Anyway," Sirius continued with a shrug, "we've just completed our O.W.L.s, haven't we? It's alright to take a break now."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "I would do anything to take a break."

Sirius watched her carefully. For once she was unguarded, vulnerable. Even at her most fragile state, she still had an aura of unapproachability. But this time, it was different.

Quietly, Sirius asked, "Who are you, Hermione?"

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "I'm nobody important."

" _Hermione_."

Her eyes snapped to his. "What do you want me to say, Sirius?  _What?_ Does it really bruise your ego that much not to know something about me? Do you keep tabs on everyone in this school, and weed out the ones with a secret?"

"Of course not," said Sirius hotly. "You know why I'm asking you in particular. Why can't you just tell me, if it's as unimportant as you say!"

"How about I do the same, then? Sirius Black, what happened to you before Christmas when you ran away from your family? Why did someone carve 'blood traitor' in your arm? What was that letter you tucked inside your robes on our first Hogsmeade visit? Where have you been going every night these past few months with Peter and James at the dead of night? What, not willing to answer?" Sirius glared at her mutely. "Of course not. So I think I'll take a leaf out of your book, and tell all of my friends to be on their guard of you, and stop talking to you, because  _Sirius Black has a secret_. And he's not willing to share with  _me_ , someone who he's known for less than a year. Sounds perfectly rational, doesn't it?"

"That's  _not_  the same, and you know it."

"Isn't it, though? Alright. You recognize the scar on my knee. That means you've seen me before—you've deduced as much. Is that really a crime? And if you are that suspicious and that curious, figure it out on your own. I'm not going to tell you anything—at least, not right now. I'm not ready to. And you're just going to have to respect that."

"You admit it, then?" asked Sirius warily. "You've seen me before. We've met."

Hermione sagged, leaning against the ledge and pressing her hands to her temples. "Yes. Okay? Yes."

The silence that ensued stretched until the sun had nearly set. Finally, Sirius spoke, "The thing is, Hermione, with all the questions you just threw at me, I feel like you already know their answers."

"That's absurd. I don't know most of them."

"But you know  _some_ of them. You're a perceptive woman. Deadly perceptive. And you're brilliant, and you'd've figured out most of the bullshit that's been surrounding me and my friends by now."

"I could say the same for you," Hermione looked at Sirius dead in the eye. "I think you just don't  _want_  to figure it out. You'd rather hear it aloud, and that's something I'm not willing to do right now."

Sirius's lips twitched. "You know me well." The smile faded. "And I don't know you at all."

"That's not my fault. You ignored me for five months."

"I've been  _cautious_  of you for five months. I was never cruel to you."

"Some would say silence is the cruelest thing you can give to someone, Sirius," Hermione answered quietly.

Sirius looked away. "Look," he started, watching her frown deepen. "I'm very protective of my friends, Hermione. And the way you reacted when I asked you after the Chistmas party didn't reassure me. Tell me, if you were in my place, what would you have done?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Probably the same," she admitted reluctantly. "But then I would've figured out that someone who'd been tortured by Death Eaters and had their parents killed by them wasn't likely to be one, no matter who she tends to speak to in school."

Sirius winced slightly. "Touché." Sirius leaned against the wall tiredly. "I haven't been a good person this year. It's a fact. And I'm afraid I took most of it out on you."

"You're still  _good_ , and that's what matters. But you have dealt your frustrations on those who don't deserve it. Like last week with Severus."

Sirius's expression darkened immediately. "Now don't with that. You know what he said to Lily."

"I also know that you were the one to start picking on him. I know what he said, but that doesn't make what  _you_  did any better. He wasn't bothering anyone, and you just decided to target him with your bullying!"

"He would've done the same to me," Sirius retorted. "You don't know him like I do, Hermione. For five years he's been wheedling his way with the cruelest Slytherins, studying dark magic under candlelight, and using every chance he could to hurl a curse at us. It started out with  _us_  in retaliation."

"And it will end with  _you_  backing off. If Severus really was the instigator and the one at fault—fine. But that doesn't mean you give him the satisfaction of bringing you down with him."

"Why is it that whenever we talk, we end up lecturing each other?" said Sirius incredulously. "Is that who you are? ' _Hermione_ : The Conscience of the People'."

Hermione snorted. "Hardly. It's not as if anyone in this bloody place ever listens to me."

"They do."

Sirius said it quietly enough to make Hermione look at him in confusion. "You really don't see it, do you? People listen to you, Hermione. James, Remus, hell, even Peter's stood out against what I said…it's like when you talk to someone, you change them a little."

"I don't," said Hermione weakly. "Really…"

"You do. You changed me a bit. You made Remus  _happier_  after the Shrieking Shack incident. You talk with the vilest members of Slytherin House and they aren't hexing you six ways to Sunday. That's what confused me so much, how everywhere you go, you change things. You said you didn't earlier, that nothing you do makes a difference, but you are so wrong. It's as if you're blind to the hidden animosity in this school, and in turn everyone is blind to the fact that you're a Gryffindor."

Hermione was shaking her head furiously. "Honestly, the way everyone talks about inter-House friendship sounds like it's a battlefield. They're still your classmates! It's okay to talk to whoever you want."

"But not everyone thinks like that," Sirius reminded darkly. "And the Slytherins aren't known to be the friendliest bunch, not to mention what most of them end up being once they graduate."

"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," Hermione said with a frown. It felt odd for her to say the words he'd told Harry, but perhaps it would teach him something. "I can understand from your upbringing, what you must think of anyone who's not the purest of heart. But I thought going to this school would make you see that there's more than one shade of good. It's not black and white."

"How do you do it?" Sirius began eyeing her as if she were a foreign creature from the Forbidden Forest. "People have been terrible to you, even your friends, yet you still have this unending optimism. You think the best of people, even when they won't think of it for themselves."

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. It's how I've always seen things. You have to look underneath the surface to understand who someone really is."

Sirius looked down, as if in deep thought. Hermione watched him from the corner of her eye, wondering if this conversation may have changed something between them. She was tired running back and forth from being a friend to being an enemy.

"Look, Sirius," Hermione's voice was tired, yet firm. "I'm not going to change what I've told you before. There are things about me nobody should know, especially right now. Nothing has changed. If you want to talk to me, that's fine. But I'm not going to chase after your friendship."

"A fair proposal," Sirius murmured vaguely. He cleared his throat. "Look, I know I've been an arse. But I was looking out for my friends. You understand that."

"I do," Hermione glanced away, staring off into the darkened horizon with a distant look that Sirius couldn't decipher. "This is the best we can do for now, I think. Mutual acknowledgement."

Sirius nodded. "It's getting dark. I don't want another reason for detention this late in the school year. Are you feeling better?"

"Hmm?" Hermione looked surprised for a second, before nodding briskly. "Oh, oh right. That. Yeah, it's definitely better. I think I needed to get out of that dormitory for a bit and stretch my legs."

"I'm glad it helped," Sirius stepped away from the ledge and headed to the staircase, beckoning Hermione after him. They walked in silently and swiftly, hoping a prefect—or worse, Filch—wouldn't catch them wandering around right after curfew. The conversation between Hermione and Sirius had ended up taking longer than expected, and the sun was long gone from the sky.

"This would be a lot easier with the cloak," Sirius muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Hermione was looking at him suspiciously.

"Ah, nothing, nothing. Just wishing I brought my cloak with me. It's a bit chilly."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Both knew that the excuse was a farce; it was sweltering hot outside.

They reached the common room in one piece, bidding each other goodnight. Before Hermione could open the door to the girls' dormitory, Sirius caught her attention one last time.

"How'd you know?" Sirius prompted abruptly. Hermione gave him a questioning look. "About the letter. The one you said you saw me tuck in my robes the day we went to Hogsmeade for the first time. How did you know it was important?"

Hermione seemed to think over his questions carefully before responding. "You were in a very foul mood after receiving it," she said slowly. "You were stuffing it in your pocket as we were leaving our dorms. And then the whole—" Hermione gestured in the air, "—ice cream incident happened. I should've realized sooner that it wasn't entirely about me. It was a vain thing to think."

Sirius nodded slowly. "And…do you have any idea what the contents of that letter could've been?"

Hermione did not say anything, her eyes wide, but they briefly flickered down to his forearm. Sirius went very still. Hermione was about to speak when Sirius continued, "My brother is fond of you."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Don't be ridiculous. He hates me."

"He doesn't waste his time around people." A bitter smile twisted his lips. "That's something my mother loves about him. How  _selective_  he is about whom he associates with. And he talks to you," Sirius noted, staring at her as if she was a particularly difficult puzzle. "You even met him Diagon Alley over the holidays."

"He insisted," Hermione shook her head distractedly. "And we don't even get along, Sirius. Your brother is bloody annoying."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "That he is," he agreed. Sobering, he looked at her seriously. "I've jumped to a lot of conclusions about you, especially when it came to Regulus. I… think it would do him good if he talked to you."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. " _What?_ " She let out a short laugh. "Why would I do that?"

Sirius shrugged, looking down. "Like I said, he speaks with you. Whether or not he's polite about it is irrelevant. He won't ever talk to me without feeling forced, and I know I'm not the one who can help him right now." Sirius shrugged again, this time with a sadness and resignation that Hermione rarely ever saw in him.

"I'll try," said Hermione, not knowing what else to say to reassure him. Talking about Regulus was the  _last_  thing Hermione had expected to discuss tonight with Sirius. The realization that there was something that had even  _Sirius_  out of his depth was alarming.

"If it's any consolation," Sirius added as he approached the boys' dormitory, "nobody really believed me about you. Peter is probably the biggest example."

Hermione was looking at him oddly, when a strange smile spread on her lips. "Were you surprised that your best friends were not your personal sheep?"

Sirius looked at her blankly, and Hermione went inside her dormitory without another word.

**xxx**

Hermione's back was still pressed against the wooden door to the girls' dormitory. She'd been standing there for at least ten minutes now, wishing with all her might that she didn't have to go up.

Any relief she'd felt in her walk to the Astronomy Tower was gone. The dull, stinging ache in her chest and the shadow over her mind returned full force, now that she was back in her dormitory. It also didn't help that the conversation with Sirius was still swimming in her mind, adding to the befuddlement.

Swallowing nervously, she slowly made her way upstairs, approaching her bed with utmost caution. Quickly she changed into her nightclothes, and drew back the covers and settled in bed.

She pressed her lips in a thin line, staring at the top of the four-poster blankly. She took even breaths and closed her eyes, hoping to distract herself.

_Let's think…Sirius. Interesting conversation. Possible establishment of trust. It's good that he doesn't think I'm out to hurt anybody. What an arse._

The whispering started, and Hermione clenched the bed covers tightly. She could feel the darkness hovering over her, draining her dry like tumbleweed in a desert. She knew where it was coming from, knew that the answer lay hidden in the trunk under her bed, concealed with several enchantments to keep prying eyes out.

But she didn't realize she should've prepared to keep  _it_  in….

Hermione wracked her brain for answers, sifting through her years with Harry. Harry had been able to feel Voldemort's emotions through the burning of his scar, but that turned out to be because a part of Voldemort's soul had embedded itself into him. Then there was the ring that Dumbledore wore in her sixth year which he managed to destroy, at the price of a cursed hand that was slowly spreading. She didn't think Dumbledore would've had these problems with the horcrux acting up—then again, Albus Dumbledore was an exceptionally powerful wizard, so it was expected that he would not have the same problems…

Her thoughts began to drift as unruly sleep started to take over, her eyes drooping heavily…maybe just a little while….

She was in a library. It was enormous, the ceiling so high in the air that she could barely make it out its end; there were enchanted candles floating all around, and perhaps twenty levels of bookshelves with a grand staircase connecting to each one. The floors and walls were plated with gold, with rows and rows of desks spread neatly across the ground floor.

She was sitting on a high desk with a book in front of her. There was no title, which piqued Hermione's unfailing curiosity. Opening it carefully, she flipped through the pages and frowned when she realized nothing was written inside.

Closing the book with a loud snap, Hermione jumped to her feet and rushed to the staircase. Perhaps she could find something useful in this large library?

She walked up the stairs to the second floor, and began perusing the shelves. With each book she hefted into her hand, she felt bitter disappointment fill her as she discovered that every single book had nothing written inside. Desperately she began flinging books down, checking for words and finding nothing but blank pages.

She went to the next floor, and the next, and the next…she called for assistance but nobody came; completely alone in the large library with its empty books, Hermione began to cry.

A soft hand touched her shoulder, and a gentle voice asked, "Are you alright?"

She turned around in surprise, so shocked that she barely managed a glimpse of the first person she'd seen in the library, and her eyes promptly flew open.

Hermione was back in her dormitory, panting as if she'd been running for hours. Her forehead was slick with perspiration, and she swiped at it with trembling hands as Hermione desperately tried to gather her bearings.

The sight of a dressed and frowning Lily beside her bed filled her vision. "Oh good, you're awake. You'll be late for breakfast if you don't hurry down. It's already seven-thirty."

Hermione nodded distractedly, trying not to notice the look of concern on Lily's face as she slid from bed and headed to the lavatory. Her heart was pounding hard and her hands were still shaking as she splashed her face with water. Her mind conjured an image of piles and piles of books…but when she stretched for more, it was as if her mind shut itself off. Shaking her head, Hermione busied herself for the day and headed out of the dormitory.

By the end of breakfast, she didn't remember the dream at all.

**xxx**

Two rolls of parchment dropped unceremoniously on Scabior's lap. He looked up with a frown.

"Up," Hermione ordered, her arms folded across her chest in a very no-nonsense stance.

"Amazing as it might sound, even  _I_  can't do that on command," said Scabior dryly as he tried to block the sun with his hand.

Hermione's frown deepened. "Don't be disgusting. Come on, we have things to cover. You got your outline."

Scabior gave her a skeptical look and unrolled the parchment. He inspected it carefully, making sure to take as long as possible. Within minutes Hermione was tapping her foot impatiently and sighing in exasperation.

Scabior finally rolled the parchment back up in satisfaction. "Finished?" asked Hermione sarcastically, and Scabior nodded grimly.

"Looks about right. You're very antsy today—more than your usual amount, I mean."

"We have less than three weeks of the school year left," Hermione said with a note of impatience. "I don't want to waste any more time."

Scabior rolled his eyes. "What do you want to do today?"

"Show me the counter spell."

Scabior's eyebrows threatened to disappear behind his hairline. "What?"

Hermione clasped her hands neatly in front of her abdomen, and looked him straight in the eye. "The counter spell. I'd like to see it, please."

Scabior frowned suspiciously. "I thought you didn't want to learn how to do fiendfyre?"

"I'm not asking you to teach me to cast  _fiendfyre_ ," Hermione corrected lightly. "I'd like to know what spell to should use to stop it."

"And why is that?"

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Academic curiosity."

Scabior began to laugh, and Hermione scowled. "I'm sorry love, but a family secret doesn't get that reputation by teaching silly Gryffindor girls how to cast it."

"Are you going back on your word?" Hermione's voice was very close to shaking with anger. Scabior raised an eyebrow.

"No…but you need to give me a better reason to teach you something like that. How am I to trust that you won't go blabbing this to any old person? This is very powerful magic, Hermione, and I'm keen on keeping it out of other people's business."

"What would it take, then? Shall I make an oath?" was Hermione's next question.

Scabior blinked several times. "You're serious about this," said Scabior in genuine surprise. Hermione stared back resolutely. "Okay then. Yeah, I'd like an oath of secrecy. Do you have any parchment on you?"

Hermione nodded, and quickly extracted a piece of parchment and a quill. "Your terms?"

Scabior replied after a moment, "'I solemnly swear never to tell, show, or otherwise reveal to another living soul on how to cast and/or dispel the fiendfyre curse. I acknowledge and accept any and all consequences of breaking this contract.' Write that down."

Hermione scribbled furiously, and then signed the bottom. She quickly handed over the parchment to Scabior, who inspected it briefly before signing it as well. He took out his wand and pointed it to the paper, muttering a binding spell and smiled in satisfaction.

"Just so you know," he said lightly, "I really did think you were cleverer than this. All this fuss over a fiendfyre curse?"

Hermione did not reply. She tucked the parchment back in her bag, along with the quill and ink bottle, and closed it sharply. She looked at him brightly. "Shall we begin, then?"

Scabior nodded slowly, and told her they would need someplace secluded to practice. She told him there were many empty classrooms to work in, and could easily get permission from one of the professors to practice some simple spellwork before the summer began. As they headed inside the castle, Scabior could've sworn he saw a triumphant smile flash across Hermione's face.

Hermione was true to her word—she asked Professor Flitwick for permission to practice in an empty classroom, and he gave it with glad tidings. He seemed almost sentimental, muttering excitedly about 'brightest witch of her age' and 'excellent approach to longevity'.

Scabior shifted a little nervously as they stood before each other in the vacated room. Scratching the back of his head, he muttered, "I've never, ah, taught anyone anything before. 'S a first for me."

Hermione smiled reassuringly. "You'll be fine. I'm a quick learner."

Scabior nodded, then cleared his throat. "Erm. Well, both fiendfyre and its counter spell have no verbal incantation. It's completely dependent on wand movement and intent—this is why both casting and stopping this curse is so difficult. Not many witches and wizards pay attention to the precision of wand movement, and not many of them are very bright."

Hermione nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to Scabior. "You were smart in asking for the counter spell first," he noted with a half-smile. "Best to know how to stop it before casting the actual flame.

"The way to go about casting the counter spell is purely on  _intent_. Same goes for casting fiendfyre. You have to  _want_  it to happen, to picture in your mind either casting massive flames, or vanquishing it altogether."

"Okay," Hermione was looking down in deep thought. "So if I want to do the counter spell, I have to imagine extinguishing the fire completely?"

"Like pouring a bucket the size of Mount Everest onto a fire."

"Okay," Hermione repeated, shifting her weight as she closed her eyes in concentration. "Alright. This is almost like casting a Patronus charm, don't you think? You need to have a happy memory to cast a successful Patronus. Same with thinking deeply on an extinguished fire."

"I s'pose, yeah," Scabior shrugged. "Do you have the image in your mind?"

"Yes," said Hermione firmly, widening her stance.

"Now, look at the wand movement I'm about to do. It'll take you a couple of tries to get it right. It's sort of like a backwards seven, but the end trails off into a half-parabola. Watch."

Scabior raised his wand in complete concentration, and slashed his wand quickly in the air. It was exactly how he described it—but it was done so quickly, that Hermione had trouble following along. He showed it to her a few times.

"Got it?" He asked. Hermione nodded hesitantly. "It's alright to be unsure. Let me see it."

Hermione raised her wand in the air and almost began to wave it, when Scabior stopped her. "Higher. You're putting out an eternal flame, not a bloody campfire."

Hermione gritted her teeth but obeyed, lifting her wand higher in the air. "That's better," Scabior observed. "Now wave…" Hermione tried to mimic Scabior's wand movement as precisely and quickly as he'd done it, but knew from Scabior's frown that it hadn't been correct.

"Try doing it slower; that way you'll do it correctly and can just speed it up later. Here, I'll show you…"

For one grueling hour, Scabior made her repeat the motion of the wand movement. He showed her how to do it slowly, and would not relent until she perfected it. She learned quickly that Scabior was very much like Snape when she had him for Potions—stern, vicious, but a very thorough teacher.

"I think you're getting a hand of it," Scabior noted with a touch of pride. "Do you want to practice if it actually works on fire?"

Hermione's eyes widened in panic. "You mean on actual fiendfyre?" she said shrilly.

Scabior barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Are you insane? In this rickety wooden classroom? It'll be a standard fire for you, sweetheart. The spell works mostly the same on it."

Scabior conjured firewood in the classroom and set it ablaze. It was a good foot taller than her, and Hermione swallowed convulsively. "Just do what you practiced, Granger," Scabior said beside her. Hermione held her wand high above her head, and pictured a large bucket of ice water extinguishing the fire. In three successive movements she slashed her wand in the air.

The crackle of the flame disappeared. Hermione looked on in amazement as the fire extinguished, and grinned at Scabior.

"I did it!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. She jumped on the balls of her feet, refraining from grabbing Scabior and making him do the same. "I put out the fire!"

"That you did," Scabior smiled widely. "But don't let this get your hopes up too high. The actual flame this spell is meant for will be a thousand times bigger and much more difficult to control. Fiendfyre has a mind of its own, and it won't go down without a fight."

Hermione nodded in understanding while her mind was brimming with excitement. After putting out a few more flames that Scabior conjured, some successful and some took more time, they both called it a day and agreed to practice again in a few days, after the Hogsmeade weekend.

After Hermione darted into her dormitory and prepared for bed, she took out a very large book (which probably would have been confiscated by now if she hadn't changed the title on the cover to something much more benign) and fished out a muggle pencil from the bottom of the trunk. Many of the pages were faded and the corner missing, as if the edges had been singed off violently. She practiced another set of wand movements with ease, something she'd been practicing for a while in secret. Its movements were akin to an infinity symbol, but a bit more complex.

After practicing until exhaustion, Hermione collapsed under the covers. And for the first time in months, she didn't notice the insistent presence of the horcrux under her bed.

**xxx**

Hermione was pacing up and down row up on row of bookshelves. She didn't know where she was, and it was frustrating her beyond belief. She called for help and no one answered, and when she tried to read a book in her boredom, all of the books were blank.

She finally tried to find a way out, but quickly discovered that the windows were locked and there simply was no door. The staircase went on forever, as if it created a new level every time she climbed a set. She had no wand, no way out, and trapped in a library with false books.

"Excuse me?" a hesitant voice asked quietly beside her. "Please don't be afraid," he said quickly, and Hermione's eyes snapped up to see a boy, not much older than her, standing half-hidden behind a bookshelf.

Hermione stood up slowly from the ground where she had exiled herself to, shock written on her face. "Are you lost too?" he asked gently, as if afraid she would run away.

Hermione nodded vigorously. "I don't know where I am," she said nervously, wringing her hands together. The boy nodded sympathetically.

"I as well," he said softly, and stepped away from the bookshelf and into full view. He was quite handsome, with dark hair and penetrating eyes. His face was angular yet soft, and was wearing neatly tailored clothing. "Do you remember where you were before you came here?"

Hermione's brows furrowed in deep thought. "I think I was at a school," she said unsurely. She looked down at her clothes, noting she was wearing a uniform with a skirt. "Definitely a school."

"I was in Albania," he replied quietly. "And suddenly I found myself here."

"Do you think we're stuck here?" she asked worriedly. The boy smiled.

"I don't think so. Not unless we want to be."

Hermione frowned at the odd statement, but brushed it off when he held out his hand. "Come. I think I found a way out of here."

He was looking at her kindly, and Hermione found herself believing him as she took his proffered hand. They walked down the grand staircase together in silence, Hermione throwing glances around them.

"How long have you been here?" Hermione asked.

"Quite a while, I believe."

"Do you know why the books are blank?"

The boy looked at her with a frown. "They're not empty."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no I'm sure they are. I've looked at nearly all of them, and not a single one has any words written in them."

"Then perhaps you need to read with new eyes," the boy remarked, causing Hermione to laugh. She didn't notice the boy did not return her smile.

They arrived on the first floor, and he took her past the rows of desks and into a back room. "I've never been here before," Hermione noted as she followed behind him. She gasped when they entered.

"This is lovely!" Hermione exclaimed. "It actually looks just like my grandmother's sitting room. There's the pink tea set, and the couch with some knitting…" Hermione marveled, striding in the room with a bright smile.

"Come sit with me," the boy smiled genially, and Hermione followed him to the sofa.

"Is this the way out?" Hermione asked.

"Oh no," the boy answered with a shake of his head. "That'll come later. Would you like to try and read something?"

"I told you, none of these books have anything written in them," said Hermione in annoyance. "There's no point wasting time on it anymore."

"You haven't tried this book, though," the boy leaned over to the small table before them and picked up a book sitting idly. He flicked through the pages with a blank expression, and then handed it to her. Hermione took it from him and opened it.

At first, the pages were blank. But then suddenly, slowly, ink began to appear on a page, until entire paragraphs were written. Amazed, Hermione glanced at the boy in wonder and began pouring into its contents.

"Incredible," Hermione shook her head. "How did you get it to work? You figured it out, I'm guessing?"

"I'm very persuasive," the boy shrugged nonchalantly. "It is but simple suggestion. The books will show you want you want to see."

Hermione read through the pages, and saw several dark curses listed along with how to effectively use them. She shuddered inside and flipped through the pages.

"Pretty nasty stuff, if you ask me," Hermione noted darkly. "Wait, did you say  _anything_?"

The boy smiled widely. "Of course. Give it a try."

Hermione looked back at the book, and then closed her eyes. When she opened them, she had to suppress a gasp.

"Oh," she breathed. " _Oh…_ "

It was her family photo album, with her mum and dad with their hands frozen in the air and identical smiles on their faces. She flipped through it voraciously, feeling stinging sadness creep up inside her.

"You miss them, don't you?" the boy said softly beside her. Hermione nodded, sniffling quietly.

"So much that sometimes I feel as if my heart will burst," Hermione whispered, her fingers going over her mother's laughing face as she hugged a four-year-old Hermione.

"You could see them again, if you wanted," he said quietly, and touched her forearm lightly. Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"How? They're gone forever. Dead…I'll never see them again…"

"But you  _can_ ," he said urgently. "You just have to come with me outside. Promise me that you'll come, and you can see your parents again. You can be with them  _forever_."

"See them again?" Hermione repeated dazedly. The boy was smiling widely, almost disconcertingly. "No… no that's not right, they're dead…how would you…?" Hermione froze as she stared at him. "What's your name?"

The boy's smile became less and less handsome the longer she looked at him. There was a sneer to it, a cruelty twisting at its corners as he continued to watch her. "I was actually growing fond of you, Hermione. I really hoped you would choose to stay."

Hermione leaned away from him. "What is your name? Tell me," she said desperately.

The boy looked at her coldly. "Oh I think you know. But I will indulge you." He leaned close to her and whispered, " _Tom._ "

Hermione leapt off the sofa and sprinted to the door, but was caught by the arm and spun around until her back hit the wall. Tom was towering over her with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Now, now, Hermione. This is a nonrefundable visit. I'm afraid I can't let you leave just yet."

"Get away from me!" Hermione shouted, fighting against his hold on her. She wished sorely that she had her wand, but realized it would do her little good in this dream world.

"I don't think I will," Tom smirked. "You see, I've been waiting a very long time for this, Hermione Granger. I have seen your heart and your mind for nine months now, seen the darkest parts of you. Oh yes, you are a  _very_  naughty girl," he sneered down at her as he held her arms pinned to the wall. "The things you have thought, hidden deep inside your mind; you are not as nice as you once were, did you know? Dabbling in dark magic, thinking of all the ways you could hurt somebody with less than one curse; you heart is  _tainted_. Others can see it, but you can't. Slytherins have always been extremely perceptive, and they know what's hidden inside you."

"You're wrong," Hermione choked out.

"I'm telling you what you already know," Tom sneered. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Did you really think you could do this on your own, Hermione? This noble quest…the only friend who knows your secret abandoned you…even your adoptive brother can't stand to speak to you…"

"No," Hermione shook her head. " _No_."

"Yes, you stupid girl," Tom hissed. "You are alone, and have always been alone, even when you were in your proper time. And now, you will die here alone."

Hermione stilled at those words. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him with fear. Tom noticed this with relish, and smiled cruelly. "Haven't you figured it out by now? I thought you were clever but I should've known better, especially for a mudblood. I seem to recall from your memories a Miss Ginny Weasley?"

"N…no," Hermione shook her head. "No, this can't—that was a  _diary_ , a memory—"

"A  _horcrux_ ," Tom corrected. "And you made the same mistake as Ginny did; held me in close proximity every day, allowing your soul to feed me, and in turn I gave you some of myself…"

Hermione recalled the amount of darkness that had been clouding her mind these past few weeks, and the stabbing aches she would get in her chest if she was too near the horcrux. Dread filled her immediately.

"Wake up," Hermione chanted as she closed her eyes. "Wake up, wake up, wake up…."

Tom laughed in a high, cruel voice. "That won't work here, I'm afraid. I suggest you take a seat and allow this dream to come to its natural end."

Hermione paused at this. "That's it," Hermione whispered, and looked up at Tom, who was now frowning. "This isn't like Ginny's experience at all. You  _controlled_ her through the diary and its memories. This—this is with a plain horcrux. This is just a dream."

"A dream you can't escape, " Tom reminded angrily. Hermione smiled.

"Oh, no. I most definitely can leave."

Without a second thought, Hermione dashed towards the table and grabbed the ceramic tea pot, then slammed it against the table. It shattered everywhere, and Hermione grabbed the largest shard she could see and looked into Tom's eyes.

"No!" he screamed in fury, and the last thing she was Tom lunging for her as she slashed her throat.

Hermione awoke gasping for breath, coughing rigorously. She felt her neck and found it still intact, not even a single droplet of blood stained on the skin. She glanced around the dormitory and saw that everyone was still asleep, and it was nearly an hour before sunrise. The horcrux beneath the bed was thrumming in her eardrums, hurting her heart with its malice.

Her face contorted as she kneeled over with her head in her hands, and began to sob.

**xxx**

There were noticeable bags under Hermione Granger's eyes on Saturday morning. Her fellow classmates asked if she was alright, and she smiled serenely and said yes, perfectly fine, thank you. When she left to get a plate of crumpets on another end of the table, one of the girls whispered to the others that she'd heard Hermione crying for hours in the girls' dormitory.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, the very last one of the school year, to be exact, so naturally the students were brimming with excitement at all the last-minute purchases to make in the village. Even Severus Snape, who had been looking very glum these past few days, had a spark of life in his eyes. He too noticed Hermione's sudden change in attitude when she was the last to leave the Great Hall that morning, but decided against saying anything. It was too soon.

Hermione brought a very large messenger bag with her to Hogsmeade. Many students did as well, to make it easier to carry everything on the walk back to Hogwarts. But Hermione did not visit any shops; she stood idly by, watching the students walk briskly past her in silence.

When the appointed time to leave began to approach, the students started to file out with wistful sighs and remarks of things to do next year when they returned. Hermione waited for the students to leave, then made a break for it to the Shrieking Shack.

Regulus and Scabior were walking with their fellow gang of Slytherins, laughing raucously with the others at something Avery had done. Severus was there as well, slinking towards the back with his hands stuffed in his robes.

"Who shoved the stick up 'is arse?" Scabior whispered loudly to Regulus, who snickered in response. Severus sent them a death glare and quickened his pace. They passed by the Shrieking Shack, and Regulus glanced at it one last time with a forlorn sigh.

"Next year I'll go inside there," he announced. "I don't care how haunted it is."

"You say that now, Black. I'd write my will beforehand, just to be safe."

"Shut up," Regulus said without any real heat. As he continued to look at the Shrieking Shack, he squinted his eyes. "I think there's somebody there."

"Already seeing apparitions?" Scabior teased, looking ahead. He stopped walking and squinted as well. "Regulus, I think you're right. Somebody's up there. It looks like…" Scabior shook his head disbelievingly.

"Do you recognize them?"

Scabior did not respond. They didn't notice that they'd lagged behind for so long, and jolted when Severus suddenly appeared before them.

"What are you dolts still doing here? They're closing any minute, and you— _bloody hell!_ "

"Somebody just set the Shrieking Shack on fire!" Regulus shouted.

"Come on!" Scabior roared, and sprinted to the shack with absolute dread coursing through his veins.

The fire was blazing with an animalistic grace, crackling and howling as the trio grew closer. Regulus and Severus began to cough, but Scabior clamped his mouth shut and kicked the door open.

"Stay back!" he shouted at Regulus and Severus, and then ran inside.

"Is he mad!" Regulus screamed, but Severus held him by the arm.

"Let him do this," said Severus over the roaring flames. Regulus looked at Severus incredulously.

Minutes passed, and Severus and Regulus started to grow nervous. "I think one of use should alert the castle," said Regulus. "They might be—" Suddenly the fire went out as if someone had blown out a candle. Scabior came into view, clutching a violently coughing Hermione Granger to his side.

He threw Hermione unceremoniously to the grass, and Severus shouted, "What the hell!" and knelt to the ground beside Hermione, wrapping an arm around her protectively.

"Was it worth it?" Scabior shouted angrily. He threw what looked like a badly charred crown at Hermione's feet. "Idiot girl!  _Was it worth it?_ "

Hermione looked up, her coughing subsiding, and growled, "Yes." She kicked the crown, and it disintegrated into dust.


	13. Once Forward, Twice Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta’d by the lovely Sigridhr. I owe her so much for putting up with my slow pace of writing this fic, and dealing with my general insanity.

The crown was resisting.

The horcrux was attacking her mind, forcing her to her knees as it brought forth every single painful memory Hermione had. She looked up to see a snake made of red flames launching itself towards her, and Hermione dashed to her feet and avoided the hit, crying out when the it managed to singe her legs.

"Granger!"

Hermione covered her mouth with her arm as she started coughing, and vaguely saw an outline of a boy bursting into the shack.

"STOP!" Hermione shouted as he raised his wand. Scabior was taken aback by her scream and hesitated for a moment, but it was enough. With a violent movement of her arm, she wrenched the diadem from her fingers and flung it into the fire.

Scabior and Hermione were thrown back as the flames roared and amplified. She registered vaguely that she could hear the horcrux screaming in agony, and that she couldn't breathe properly, but her vision was starting to darken and her thoughts began to slow. With a last effort, Hermione raised her arm and slashed her wand in the air. The fire disappeared.

"Get up, Granger!" Scabior shouted. Was she still lying down? Evidently yes, and she staggered to her feet when two arms lifted her from under her arms.

"Stupid bloody girl!" Scabior growled, and then glanced around. The Shrieking Shack was badly burned, and with the fiendfyre now put out, Hermione could see the charred remains of the diadem. It was silent. Hermione smiled faintly.

He must have seen her looking at it, because in one fluid movement Scabior picked it up and then grabbed her again, clutching her to his side as they stumbled out of the Shack. He threw her to the ground in disgust and dropped the diadem to her feet, and Hermione saw Severus kneel beside her and wrapping an arm around her. She kicked the diadem and watched in satisfaction as it reduced to dust.

"Hermione, what were you thinking?"

She turned to see Severus looking at her with a troubled expression. "She's injured," he announced as he inspected her, and looked up at a seething Scabior.

"Well of course she's bloody  _injured_ , she just cast bloody  _fiendfyre_  in a wooden bloody  _shack_ ," growled Scabior, running his hand through his hair angrily. "And what the hell was with that crown? What are you playing at, Granger?"

"Fiendfyre?" Regulus said in alarm, casting another look at the burned shack. " _How_ —"

"Somebody's coming," Severus said urgently. He glanced up at the Shrieking Shack. "At least the shack doesn't look too bad; it only got blacker. If anything, this'll just encourage the haunted shack theories."

"We have to get out of here before anyone sees us," Hermione gritted her teeth as she stood up. Severus still had an arm around her as he helped her stand, and didn't seem very keen on letting her go.

They immediately bolted towards the castle. Hermione grimaced as her shins and thighs began to sting very badly, and her hands—she didn't even want to look to see how much damage there was. Severus clearly had no problem looking at them, for once they were safely inside the castle, he pulled her to the side and held them up to his eyes.

"I'm fine," Hermione snatched her hands from his inspection. "They're just burns."

"Oh no, sweetheart," Scabior's smiling was scathing as he walked up to her. "Those aren't just any burns. They're  _cursed_  burns." Hermione's eyes widened. "What? Didn't come across that part in your reading?"

"I did," said Hermione mutely. "I might've…overestimated my accuracy."

"You need to see Madame Pomfrey," said Severus at once.

Hermione shook her head impatiently. "If I go to her, she'll know what this is! And once she finds out someone set fire to the Shrieking Shack, it's only a matter of putting two and two together."

"No offense, Hermione, but looking at the state of you now, anybody can put two and two together," Regulus said bluntly. Hermione glanced down and winced at the abysmal state of her attire. "Come on."

Hermione took a step back. "Where are you taking me?"

"The common room."

Hermione wrenched free of the trio and backed away. "And going to the bloody Slytherin common roomis  _so_  much more inconspicuous!" Hermione laughed incredulously. "No, I'm not going with you."

Severus glared, but Scabior shrugged. "Well go then, Granger, just go head up to your room and try a bit of spellwork on those burns. Doesn't take more'n a week for your hands to completely blister, until all that's left is bone."

"Stop being horrible, Scabior," Hermione snapped, but she reflexively cradled her hands closer to her chest. She could feel the burn digging deeper into her skin already. The terror must have shown on her face, for Scabior's glare softened a fraction.

"I'm no master in potions," said Scabior, as if the words were being wrenched unwillingly from his mouth, "but I know what could heal that."

"Of course you do," nodded Hermione. "You'll know all about how to work with the family trade secret."

Scabior's lip twitched, but he remained silent. Severus glanced between the two warily, and said quietly, "Lucky for us, I  _am_  something of a master in potions. I will make the antidote."

Scabior's expression instantly darkened. "You really think I'd tell you my family's legacy? You daft?"

"Somebody has to make the potion, Scabior," Hermione frowned. "And since I'm a bit indisposed at the moment—"

Regulus, who had been watching the exchange with growing annoyance, snapped impatiently, "Are we really going to have this discussion in the entrance hall of the school?"

"Right," Hermione bit her lip, looking around distractedly. Suddenly she gasped. "The old classroom!" she turned to Scabior emphatically.

"Oh yes, of course!" he replied sarcastically, looking at her as if she had two heads.

Hermione made an impatient noise. "The one we were practicing in! I have still have permission to use it. No one should be down the corridor right now."

"Alright," Scabior agreed gruffly. He gave a hard look to Severus. "We need to get to the potions supply closet. Black, go with Granger to the classroom." They began to separate, but Scabior grabbed Hermione's upper arm and lowered his voice. "You  _will_  tell me what this was all about afterwards. You owe me."

Hermione swallowed, watching him walk away with Severus.

It was an odd arrangement to say the least, and despite the sharp pain shooting up and down Hermione's body, she came to realize that three boys—three Slytherin boys who were already on the path to the dark side—had helped her. And were going to make an antidote for her own silly mistake. Hermione shook her head in wonder. She was slowly starting to realize just how foolish a lot of her assumptions about people were….

"Down here?" Regulus's voice interrupted her thoughts. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, down here." She noticed Regulus was keeping in pace with her as she trekked slowly down the corridor, his eyes darting around carefully. "It's okay. Everyone's getting lunch in the Great Hall right now. No one will be looking down here."

"Reassuring," replied Regulus. Hermione couldn't tell if his reply was sarcastic or not. She didn't wait to find out.

"This one," Hermione pointed at the door to an empty classroom, pressing her injured hands closer to her chest. Regulus stepped forward and opened it, gesturing for Hermione to walk through first.

He closed the door behind them and leaned against the wall, watching Hermione speculatively as she slowly sank into a chair. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Silence… there was complete silence. No longer did the horcrux ring in her ears. The constant ache in her chest disappeared. She was finally, finally free.

The relief was short-lived as Hermione thought of the other horcruxes she would need to find and destroy. Were all of them even made yet? She destroyed the diadem – leaving the ring, the locket, the snake, the cup, the diary… was the locket even a horcrux yet? Hermione tried to wrack her brain and recall what Dumbledore had told her before her journey into the past, but her mind refused to cooperate.

And the snake… if he had Nagini right now, then surely she'd become a horcrux. Harry wasn't even born yet, so then….

"You're really stupid, you know."

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts at Regulus's words. She looked up to see him watching her with his arms crossed lazily.

"Thank you for that assessment, Regulus," said Hermione.

"I mean, what kind of idiot wakes up one morning and thinks, 'I'm going to blow up the Shrieking Shack today. I feel  _lucky_.'"

"I didn't blow it up," Hermione snapped.

"Don't understand why everyone's putting such a fuss about you," Regulus continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Scabior and the greasy git tripping over themselves to help you. It's pathetic."

"I didn't ask for their help, and I certainly didn't ask for  _yours_ ," said Hermione coldly. "You can leave now."

"But you're so stupid that people can't  _help_  but try to help you," Regulus said patiently.

"What's your point, Regulus?"

He shrugged. "I don't even know. It's just curious, is all. And what was that thing that Scabior had dropped on the grass before? A crown?" Hermione pressed her lips together. "I see I've reached the touchy subject. How about this then: where in Merlin's name did you learn to cast fiendfyre? And  _why_?"

"It's a long story," Hermione looked away, feeling suddenly very old. "And none of your business."

"Yeah but why though? Why did you do it? That's  _really_  dark magic, Granger. I didn't think you would ever use it—thought you were just really curious about it."

Hermione glanced at Regulus with a raised brow. "Are  _you_  curious about it? Enough to use dark magic again?"

"Who's to say I don't already?" he challenged.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "You don't seem that interested in it anymore."

"There you go again, acting like you know me," Regulus muttered, but behind his words was something she couldn't quite recognize—and for a moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of fear flit in his eyes. Hermione recalled what Sirius had discussed with her the night before, about Regulus receiving a letter from his family, and wondered if now would be a good time to bring it up.

The door opened loudly and Scabior and Severus walked through. Evidently not.

"Unfortunately, Hermione," started Severus curtly, "I'm not sure how quickly I can brew the potion, since the oaf beside me refuses to give me a sheet of instructions on how to brew it."

Scabior glared darkly at Severus, who was setting up the cauldron on one of the desks. Hermione suppressed a sigh. "Give him the instructions, Scabior. The quicker we can get this done, the quicker we can get out of each other's hair."

"And in our case, it'd be much safer for all of us to stay out of Snape's," Regulus remarked with a slight grimace.

With great reluctance, Scabior did what she asked, and Severus was well on his way to a bubbly, boiling solution in his cauldron. Regulus had taken to a nap in the corner of the room, his feet propped up on a desk and leaning against his chair. Scabior was watching as Hermione transfigured her clothes back to a somewhat normal state. It wasn't a perfect result, as she was having trouble keeping a firm grip on the wand, but she reached success after a few minutes and smiled triumphantly as she sat down on a chair.

Hermione attempted to ignore the stare burning through her forehead. Finally, she sighed exasperatedly. "What?" Scabior didn't reply. " _What_?"

"How did you learn to cast it?" Hermione looked away nervously. "I mean, we only practiced the countercurse. Once. And then the next day you do this."

"I did do my research, you know," said Hermione quietly. "And you gave me the history lessons about it in exchange for the essays."

"But why? You never really answered why you're doing this, why you were interested in fiendfyre." He let out a harsh laugh. "Blimey, at first I thought you fancied me, but when that fell through I couldn't understand why you continued."

Hermione breathed in deeply and looked Scabior straight in the eye. "I know you want to know, Scabior. Everyone in this room does." Her eyes flitted over to Snape, who was carefully brewing the potion. She knew she had a lot of explaining to do to him. "But you really, really don't want to know. It's not safe for either of us, and believe it or not I think we might be friends now. And I don't… I don't want you to get involved in my mess. At least, not yet. It's not fair to you."

"Do you fancy the dark arts now?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "You know… you know they don't really allow your kind in."

"My kind…?"

"It's their thing, not mine," Scabior said quickly. "I don'—I don' really care, just in it for the fun—"

"I don't fancy the dark arts," Hermione assured, not particularly interested in what he was trying to say. "I just need to borrow one of its spells for a short while…" Hermione glanced down at her hands again, and sighed. "I definitely need more practice."

Scabior looked at her dubiously, but did not comment. "Are you going to tell anyone?" asked Hermione. The question had been worrying her for the past hour. After all, she didn't exactly have his loyalty from just a few days of chatting.

"But of course. I went through all this bloody trouble of getting you antidote just to tell the whole school you set the Shrieking Shack on fire," said Scabior dryly. "Which, well..." Scabior coughed. "You did a decent job, that. For a day's practice, that is. Was stupid, but still good. You put it out yourself n' everything."

"Did you just give me a compliment?"

"Don't be daft," Scabior scowled. When she found herself smiling, Hermione wondered when exactly she had stopped thoroughly disliking the boy.

"The potion is ready," Severus announced as he sauntered up to the pair. His eyes were narrowed shrewdly as he regarded Scabior. "If what he says is true, you'll need to apply this every three hours for a week. I've made a cauldron full, so it will last you the trip home."

"Guess my job is done," Scabior jumped to his feet and strolled to Regulus, giving his chair a swift kick. "Time to go, Black."

Regulus woke with a start, glaring at Scabior's back as he left the classroom without another word. Muttering darkly under his breath, Regulus stood and brushed out his robes. He glanced at Hermione and Severus and then left as well.

Hermione finally turned to look at Severus, and released her breath with a  _whoosh_.

"Well." Hermione leaned back against her chair tiredly. "Hello."

Severus carefully took a seat before her and set the cauldron on the table. "Hello." He held out his hands expectantly, and Hermione offered her own. He started to apply the thick liquid from the cauldron onto the burns, and Hermione couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her the moment the ointment met with her skin. Severus's lips twitched in a self-satisfied manner, knowing full well that his potion was, as always, flawlessly brewed.

"Thank you for doing this," Hermione said meekly after several minutes of silence. Severus nodded in acknowledgement. He began wrapping her hands in bandages, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How exactly will I be wearing these wrappings without causing suspicion?"

"Bad potion accident," Severus said automatically. "That excuse always works."

"I suppose…" Hermione said slowly. She expected he would be bursting with questions and accusations the moment they were alone, but this was something else entirely. He was quiet and calm, and was actually talking to her. Well, progress was progress. It didn't do well to look a gift horse in the mouth, Hermione supposed, but it didn't make the uneasy feeling in her stomach disappear.

Severus cleared his throat then, and Hermione focused again on his face. He was sitting rather stiffly in his chair and was not meeting her eyes. "Your other burns?" he said almost coldly. Hermione frowned, and then looked down at her shins.

"Oh," she said in surprise. "Well, you can just… oh honestly, Severus! They're just legs! Here, give me," she reached for the cauldron but her hands were swiftly batted away. Hermione scowled. "Well if you won't let me then just do it. I didn't know the one thing that frightened a Slytherin was the sight of a girl's shin."

At this Severus began to glower at her deeply, one that would have sent a first year scuttling away quickly. Hermione merely raised an eyebrow and lifted her leg forward a bit so he could reach it. Immediately he began applying the ointment liberally, and within moments he was frowning deeply.

"Merlin, these are even worse than your hands," he muttered.

"I've had worse," said Hermione off-handedly. Severus paused and lifted his eyes up to look at her.

"I really hope not."

Hermione blinked, watching him resume his work. Hermione bandaged her shins herself, now that she had the use of her hands again. Wincing slightly as she pulled her repaired stockings over them, she sighed in relief when the job was done.

Severus was pouring the remaining contents of the cauldron into several flasks, and handed them to her. "Every three hours for a week," he reminded her sternly. "And it'll be like you never got burned."

"This'll last me more like a year, to be honest," Hermione murmured as she put the vials into her bag.

Severus did not meet her eyes. "I figured you would be in need of it again, so I doubled the measurements."

Hermione looked at him with a startled expression. "You—you made extra on purpose?" Severus nodded. Hermione set the bag down with a  _thump,_ and fixed him with a hard look. "Alright, why aren't you asking me questions? Everyone else has but you. Aren't you wondering why I cast that bloody spell? And you—you went and made me  _extra_ , because you knew I would cast it again."

Severus gazed at her firmly. "Of course I am curious. But if you wanted to tell me what happened, you would. And…" Severus shifted uncomfortably. "I wasn't sure… I haven't been a very… it's been a strange few weeks, and I wasn't sure you even wanted to talk to me, not after I…" Severus trailed off, and Hermione understood.

"Well, you're talking to me now," she said, daring to sound the tiniest bit hopeful. Severus cracked a slight smile.

"Yes, I am."

"And you're not… running away. Or accusing me of, you know. Bad intentions."

"No, I'm not."

"So have you been deducing what could be going on?" asked Hermione curiously.

Severus straightened, and peered into her eyes carefully, as if trying to decipher whether she would be angry with him or not. When he saw no such thing, he began to speak quickly. "I've been thinking on this for a few weeks. And after today, well—I know you're from the past, I know you're incredibly smart and powerful with moral standards so high nearly no one could reach—and yet you cast one of the most dangerous and darkest spells just to destroy some trinket."

Hermione blinked rapidly. "Well, you're right on the margin so far," she acknowledged, blushing slightly at having someone else tell her how he perceived her as.

"And you've been in pain," said Severus a little quieter. He looked at her with worry. "I noticed it during the OWLs. Saw you run to your dormitory after. Looked like something was torturing you." As if realizing something that instant, he looked at her in shock. "That thing—the crown—was that hurting you?"

"You noticed that?" said Hermione in surprise, her stomach doing an odd flip when he nodded. "Yes. For… for quite some time now."

Severus looked at her for a long moment, his eyes latched onto her so attentively that Hermione had to fight not to look away from the eye contact. Hardly anyone looked at others directly like this for so long, and Hermione was perturbed by the broiling questions and careful assessments underneath those black eyes.

A bitter smile twisted Severus's lips. "I did exactly what those buffoon friends of yours did to you not too long ago. Made myself a right hypocrite and jumped to conclusions."

"To be fair, it wasn't an easy subject to digest," said Hermione helpfully, though inside her mind was in complete disarray. Days and days of not speaking, and then this. She was slightly annoyed that it took burning the inside of a building for him to realize how foolish he had been towards her.

"Well," he gruffly cleared his throat. "Well."

Hermione frowned, but shook her head. "Right. We should get going." She rose to her feet and brushed the remaining ash and dust from her clothing. He stood with her, his eyes flickering over her unsurely and then turned to the door.

They strode outside and came upon the grand staircase. He turned to head downstairs, but paused and whirled around.

"Are you doing anything over the summer holidays?"

Hermione paused. "Er, not that I know of," she replied hesitantly, taken aback by the sudden question. "Why?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders awkwardly and looked to his shoes, locks of long hair partially covering his face. "Just wondering."

She didn't believe it for a second, but she decided to humor him; he was, after all, back on speaking terms with her, and she didn't want to push his buttons more than necessary. At least, not right now. "I'll owl you. Is that alright?"

He blinked and nodded quickly, not quite meeting her eyes still. Suddenly his face sobered, and he glanced up the staircase, as if searching for the Gryffindor tower. "Has she….Has Lily…?"

Hermione glanced up as well, and then looked at him with sadly. "No, she hasn't said anything."

For a brief moment, he looked completely like the broken boy who'd sat in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, begging Lily to come out. But the expression disappeared, replaced with a look of cold solemnity, and he straightened his shoulders. "Right. Well, good day."

"Severus," Hermione said softly, catching his arm before he could take a step down. He froze, not turning around to meet her eyes. "I know it's not my place. But she won't see you. And she doesn't want to speak to you."

"Yes, I know that," he said icily, ineffectively attempting to shrug out of her grip.

"So then do it another way," she glared. "Write her a letter. She needs to know how you really feel, that you don't…you need to apologize," Hermione said firmly.

Severus whirled around. "You think I haven't tried? You think I don't regret every day, every time I see her, how much I didn't mean what I said?"

"Don't you yell at me," said Hermione sharply. "I know what you said to her, and if I was in Lily's place, I would make you work for it too. I've been—I've been desensitized to being called a mudblood, because of how often it's been shoved at me as if I were a disease. Don't look so surprised."

Hermione glowered at him reproachfully when he winced. "But it is still a hurtful word, and nobody deserves to have their entire identity be reduced to their bloodline; to be told they are disgusting for what they were born as. It doesn't matter how angry you were at the time, it doesn't matter what the situation was. It shouldn't have been said."

"I know," replied Severus quietly. "I know, Hermione. I know."

He was visibly sagging, and Hermione sighed. "It's not the end of the world, Severus. Not yet. You're still young; you can let her know the truth. That you will  _never_  say something like that again."

He looked at her then, gazing at her with a mixture of curiosity and questioning. "You say that a lot, you know," he noted. "You say things sometimes, like you know more than you let on, like you're older than we think. Sometimes I forget you're not from here. How old are you, really?"

"I'm—" Hermione stopped. "I…I don't know? I don't know which timeline I'm following anymore. I came here when I was sixteen, and it's been a year already so I suppose…" Hermione let out a short, incredulous laugh. "I'm seventeen. My birthday's passed on both timelines now, I think, so… Seventeen. I'm seventeen now."

"You were still at Hogwarts?" said Severus in shock. "You haven't even finished, have you?"

"No, I haven't," she replied distantly. "It was the end of my sixth year when Dumbledore… came to me and… and now, here I am." She shook her head in wonder.

"You're of age then," Severus observed. "You can do magic outside school now."

"I suppose you're right," Hermione nodded, realizing that he had a point. This would greatly improve her hunt for horcruxes since the Trace wouldn't be on her. "It feels weird being able to finally tell someone this."

Severus looked at her incredulously for a second, and then stepped closer to her. "This summer, I'll write to you. And I think, well. I think we should see each other at least once during the holidays. I have been a fool, and—and everything is so confusing right now, the people I spend time with—" He broke off suddenly, as if fighting with himself, and Hermione felt a wave of sadness as she knew what he was referring to. "They abandoned you, those bloody Gryffindors, and I was no better."

"Not all of them," Hermione reminded lightly. Lily had never left her side, and that thought made her feel terribly guilty for taking their friendship so lightly this entire year.

Severus narrowed his eyes for a moment, as if understanding what she meant, but chose not to comment on it. Hermione knew full well why. He was shaking his head again as he continued, "There's so much about you, Hermione, that I can't believe is true. You're living day by day like this, and it's slowly making sense to me; everything that you've been doing, the fiendfyre and the crown—" He broke off, but then looked at her with a renewed sense of purpose. "I will write to you. And I will write to her." He glanced up the staircase briefly, and then gazed at Hermione seriously. "You don't have to be alone anymore in this, Hermione."

Hermione's throat threatened to close as she listened to Severus's words. "You daft Slytherin," she shook her head, a slow smile spreading on her lips. "I'll see you over the summer."

And with that they parted, and neither had a chance to speak to each other for the remaining week at Hogwarts. It wasn't until Hermione was boarding the Hogwarts Express, trunk in hand and a crowd of students surrounding her, did Hermione catch a glimpse of Severus again; he was settling his own trunk down, a hoard of Slytherins surrounding him, of which she recognized Scabior, Regulus, and Avery and his gang. The latter sneered at her, with the former merely holding her gaze as she dropped off her trunk. Scabior's eyes flickered to her hands, and saw the fresh bandages that were wrapped around them. Nodding in acknowledgement, he disappeared, as did Regulus and Severus.

"Come on, Hermione," Peter said jovially behind her, patting her shoulder with a smile as they began looking through compartments. "We should still be able to find a good one before the underclassmen climb aboard."

"Very true," Hermione agreed, and began to look eagerly for a compartment to sit in. A throat cleared behind them, and James was standing with Sirius and Remus. "There's an empty one here," James pointed at the one beside him, opening the door. "If you want." His voice was neutral, but his eyes were unsure with a small, glittering bit of hope.

Hermione's eyes slid to Remus, who appeared very tired but very keen as he watched her, and Sirius seemed to be in higher spirits as well. Hermione and Peter exchanged looks, and Hermione shrugged. "I suppose it will do."

A wide smile spread on James's face and held the door out for her. Hermione caught the sight of bright red hair and paused. "You go in first. I'll be back in a minute."

Quickly brushing past the mass of excited students, Hermione caught up with Lily and grabbed her shoulder. A smile bloomed on Lily's face.

"Aren't you supposed to be sitting with you four-man army?" she said lightly. "They speaking to you again?"

"I suppose they are, yes," replied Hermione vaguely. "It's all very weird. But they can wait," Hermione waved her hand distractedly. "Have you got a compartment?"

"This one right here with my mates," she pointed to the door beside her. "Would you like to join us?"

Hermione smiled genuinely. "Thank you, but it's alright. I just wanted to see you beforehand. It's been a really strange year." Lily snorted, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "But I wanted to thank you. You were the first person to really welcome me to this school, and you didn't even know me. And I'm certain if it weren't for you, I would've gone mad within the first month here."

"I wouldn't blame you," said Lily darkly, but patted her shoulder with a smile. "I'm glad I met you, Hermione."

"Can I—I mean, do you want to meet up this summer? I'm not sure how I feel about three months without seeing you."

Lily blinked, and then grinned. "Of course!" she said cheerfully. "Merlin knows I'll need the company. My sister drives me barmy every summer, so it'll be nice to have someone fresh company. And you could meet my parents! They'll love you."

"You should come to my home too, the Potters will adore you," said Hermione enthusiastically.

"I keep forgetting you live with the Potters," Lily said sheepishly. "Would that be alright, then? If I came over?"

"Of course," Hermione frowned. "I'll have to ask Dorea or Charlus, of course, but it should be fine."

"Alright then," Lily beamed. "I'll see you soon." The two girls embraced, and Hermione caught the sight of a letter being discreetly tucked inside Lily's robes; a letter addressed to Lily, in what appeared to be Severus's neat handwriting. She looked up at Lily, who seemed frozen for being caught in the act, but quickly schooled her features and shrugged, as if to say _, 'it is what it is'_. Hermione smiled understandingly, and was exceedingly happy that for once in her life, somebody had listened to her advice.

xxx

It was a full month before Hermione received her first letter from Severus.

She'd been sitting in James's room, odd as it sounded. They were on speaking terms again, more or less, the moment she sat with him and the rest of the marauders on the train back home. It had also helped, of course, that he had apologized to her once they reached home for treating her so coldly since Christmas. There was plenty of groveling that Hermione felt was completely necessary in this circumstance, and so, here they were.

James was absorbed into today's Quibbler, so he did not take notice when a tawny owl swooped through the open window and dropped an envelope onto Hermione's lap. It gave a low hoot and took off, leaving Hermione to rip open the letter fervently.

_Hermione,_

_I hope your holidays are going well. Are you free this week? We have a lot to discuss, especially about your plans of next term. There is a bakery nearby Godric's Hollow that we could meet._

_S. Snape_

Hermione read it twice, frowning. How did he know she lived in Godric's Hollow? She cast a glance at James and then understood. Know thy enemy.

Wordlessly leaving James's room, Hermione went to her own and quickly scribbled a reply.

_Severus,_

_I am free this week. We could meet today, if you like. I've never been to that bakery yet, so it'll be fun visiting._

_Hermione_

She sent off the letter with anxious anticipation. She knew this would be it—the day she finally told him who she was. It terrified her, but part of her was almost glad she could finally tell someone, to not be alone anymore. Even though Hermione had her fair share of friends this past school year, it was unmistakable that Hermione was utterly alone in her quest, and thus nobody actually knew who she was. To be free of this burden, to finally have someone else  _know_ …

Hermione did not muse on this longer, for her owl returned with another letter in its beak. For a moment she thought it hadn't been able to deliver hers, but when she saw her name written on the envelope, she hastily took it and tore it open.

_Three o'clock today, then. I'll meet you at the door._

Hermione's eyes widened, and she checked the back of the envelope to see if anything else was written. There wasn't.

Meet her at the door? Surely,  _surely_  he would not do that. Severus Snape, show up at the Potters' front door? The idea was laughable, not to mention dangerous. If Sirius or James saw him… well, she was glad magic was forbidden outside Hogwarts.

Hermione still did not dare to test her magic outside Hogwarts. Her body was most definitely seventeen right now, so the Trace couldn't possibly be on her.

But this was no time to think of this. Three o'clock was two hours away. She worried her lower lip, wondering if she should bring her bag from her own time with her, the one filled with textbooks and things she owned from before. And the empty Time-Turner that brought her here… no, he had seen that already. There was no point in showing that again.

Hermione prepared herself and grabbed the purse, then went to Mrs. Potter and told her of her departure. Mrs. Potter—Dorea, as she urged Hermione should call her—was skeptical of her leaving so suddenly, but did not protest. After assuring she would be back before dark, Hermione hovered anxiously by the door, glancing every few seconds out the window, as if expecting to see long, dark hair and a hook nose at any instant.

On her last glance she saw him. Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, and immediately she opened the door before Severus could knock. He looked surprised at her sudden appearance, noting she closed the door quickly behind her, and gave a wary smile.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," said Hermione, breathlessly. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Very," Severus agreed amiably. He glanced up briefly up at the house, and the faintest of sneers curled his lips. "Potter and Black inside, then?"

"Just James," Hermione shrugged, stepping away from the door. "Sirius went out to see his other friends some hours ago."

Severus looked as if he swallowed a particularly bitter lemon at the mention of James and Sirius's names, but made the effort to school his features back to one of indifference. "Let's go, then. Don't want to get there when the bakery closes."

Hermione nodded and fell in step with Severus, walking along the sidewalk together. "Where do you live, by the way?" Hermione asked. "I feel terrible that you had to come all this way. I could've met you at your house."

"Spinner's End," Severus said brusquely. "You needn't bother come there. It's far from Godric's Hollow, and a dreadfully dull place."

His expression was hard and closed, staring straight ahead at the street. Hermione did not comment, for she knew, though he would not tell her outright, that home was not an endearing place for him. She didn't have to guess very hard why.

The bakery was very close to Godric's Hollow; they reached a little shop on the corner of a street about three blocks away. She was instantly chilled as she stepped inside, and felt grateful for muggle air conditioning. They sat at an empty booth, Hermione noting that it was quite a private little shop, and knew why Severus chose this place in particular. He wouldn't let her near his house and would be caught dead before actually stepping inside the house of James Potter and Sirius Black, so a bakery nearby her home was both private and safe.

Severus shifted a bit in his seat, his hands folded under the table. Hermione cleared her throat.

"So how has your summer been?"

Severus shrugged indifferently. "Yours?"

Hermione shrugged as well. "Rereading lots of books, mostly."

"Books for school, or books for other… things?"

Hermione looked at him sharply, taking in his nonchalance. "Both," said Hermione carefully.

Severus looked at her for several more moments before sighing raggedly. "I think we've danced around this subject long enough. I meant what I said before we left Hogwarts, Hermione," said Severus seriously. "I am sorry for how I handled what you trusted me with. But –" He took a deep breath. "I'm ready to hear the whole story, and I won't run away this time. If you want to tell me, of course," he added quickly, taking in Hermione's surprised expression. "Only if you want to."

"I do," Hermione answered immediately. "I really do. But you have to absolutely, absolutely swear that this stays between us."

"I swear," Severus said solemnly, and Hermione believed him. Perhaps this would be her downfall. She knew a thousand ways how it could be. But she also knew she could not do this alone, not anymore. She already tried doing it alone. And she knew she couldn't spend the rest of her life living like this.

"Okay," she nodded, feeling suddenly very nervous. She looked away from Severus and stared at her hands, folded neatly on the table. "Well, I don't know if I'll bore you the details of my  _entire_  life story. I'll just start with the basics. I was born in 1979 to muggle parents. Eleven years later I got my Hogwarts letter, and got sorted into Gryffindor. I made two best friends; Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" Severus repeated. "Do you mean—no, you can't mean. The only Potter with magic here is—" Severus stopped short. A look of cold dread filled Severus's eyes. "Potter's son. You were friends his son in school."

"Yes," Hermione admitted, feeling suddenly very sick now that she was finally telling him the secrets of the future. But she kept going. "We weren't friends at first, but we were by the next month."

"What does Harry Potter have to do with you going back to the past?"

The question was asked so innocently, with such genuine confusion, that Hermione almost began laughing. "What does he have to do with it? He's  _everything_  to do with it," Hermione smiled incredulously. "Harry Potter was famous when I was at school. There wasn't a witch or wizard who didn't know his name."

Severus's eyes darkened. "I see," he said quietly. "So, Potter and his family become famous. I'm not entirely surprised."

Hermione's expression changed instantly; a haunted look was about her, and her eyes filled with deep sadness. Severus furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"He's not famous because his parents were popular. He's famous because Voldemort tried to kill him as a baby."

Severus's eyes widened to saucers as he flinched at the name. " _What_?" he exclaimed in a harsh whisper, glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard. "Are you serious?"

Hermione gave him a hard look. Severus began shaking his head in disbelief. "Why would he do that? Why would he try to kill a baby?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "There was this prophecy," she muttered quietly. "Something about a boy born on the 31st of July that would be You-Know-Who's downfall. So he decided not to take his chances, and used the Killing Curse on him. But it didn't work; it backfired and ended up destroying his body."

Severus looked even more horrified. "Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse? How is that even possible? And you're saying that in the future, the Dark Lord is no longer alive because of that?"

Hermione shook her head, her lips pressed in a hard line as she clasped her fingers together even more tightly. "It was old magic that saved him," she continued hollowly. "That's the only reason. No one has ever survived the Killing Curse, except Harry. And Vol—You-Know-Who didn't exactly die. His body was gone, but the spirit remained."

Severus sat back in his seat, looking aghast. She could see his mind working rapidly, trying to figure out the meaning behind Hermione's words, and filling the holes that Hermione was intentionally leaving. She wasn't sure if she wanted tell him that it was Lily's death that saved Harry that night.

Severus looked up at her again, a renewed question in his eyes. "Why are you here, Hermione?"

Hermione took a long breath, trying to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to reveal. "Over the years, You-Know-Who took every chance trying to kill Harry. He tried very hard to restore his body, but never quite succeeded. But in my fourth year, he found a way. He came back, with a new body, and picked up from where he left off. The reason he could do this was simple, really. He's always looked for a way to cheat death, a way he could live forever. He found one—really old, really terrible magic."

This was it. This would be the hardest part for Severus to digest, but it was now or never. "He…he split his soul. Seven times. Hid them in objects and scattered them around the world, making it so that if one form of his body died, he'll always have a backup plan. That's how he was able to come back at all."

Severus continued to stare at her after she stopped talking, and waited for him to speak. His eyes were wide with shock, and she knew this was a lot of information to dump on somebody all of a sudden, but he had to know. He asked, and it was time to tell.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Severus opened his mouth. "S…seven times? He split his soul seven times?"

Hermione nodded.

Severus peered at her searchingly. "Is that what it is, then? You're here to destroy those objects where he hid his soul." His eyes narrowed in realization. "That's what that crown was, then, wasn't it? It was one of the things you had to destroy."

"Yes, it was," Hermione agreed. "It's why I've been getting Scabior to teach me about fiendfyre. He doesn't know why, obviously. Fiendfyre is about the only thing at this point that's powerful enough to destroy a horcrux."

"Is that what they're called?" Hermione nodded. Severus began to nod fervently, grabbing the glass of ice cold water in front of him and taking a few long swigs. He set the glass down and gazed at Hermione with glazed eyes and renewed determination. "I believe you," he said. "It all sounds so ridiculous, but I know you're not lying. And it makes sense. What I want to know now is, why did Dumbledore send  _you_? Why not Potter himself? And what actually made him give you a Time-Turner to change history?"

"Well," Hermione began carefully. "From what Dumbledore told me, he and Harry spent a lot of my sixth year trying to learn more about horcruxes and even went to find one on the day I came here. Dumbledore, well…" Hermione shrugged ineffectually. "I won't try to understand why he does the things he does. But he found a Time-Turner, a  _lost_  Time-Turner that was thought to be a myth, that could move decades instead of hours. The Sands of Destiny, remember?"

Severus nodded.

"Well, he used it, only he went into the future instead of the past. He saw terrible things, and realized that You-Know-Who had won. There was another war," Hermione added quickly, noting Severus's confused face. "And apparently I fought in it during my seventh year, but we lost. You-Know-Who had absolute power. And the deaths… so many people died, Severus. Everyone I cared about. So Dumbledore used the Time-Turner to come back to his proper time, and ran into me." Hermione smiled bitterly. "Sometimes I think it's because I was the first person he could reach. That's why he chose me to do it. But he said… he said he trusted me, that no one else could do this. It made some sense, because I've worked with Time-Turners before in my third year, when I took extra classes and got approval to use one to get to them all.

"He explained everything to me; about the horcruxes, about who died in the future, about going into the past and destroying them early on and therefore changing the course of history. And so… I left everyone I loved behind. To save the people I love. To save everyone from the rise of You-Know-Who."

When she finally finished talking, Hermione sagged in her seat. The weight was finally off her. She could breathe easier now; she felt it. Severus was unusually quiet as he contemplated everything she just told him.

"So this is what you've been doing here?" Severus finally spoke, looking at her questioningly. "This is what you've been hiding all year?"

"Yes."

Severus shook his head incredulously. "You must hate us! You have enough on your plate as it is, but instead you had terrible friends along the way to make matters worse."

"Not always terrible," Hermione said lightly, but the bitterness finally broke through and she looked away. "But it definitely didn't help." She shook her head quickly and pushed away the dark thoughts. "You know everything now. So… what do you think?"

At that point, Hermione was glad she got to know Severus Snape in his youth. This person was so, so different from the one she knew as a Hogwarts professor. She never would have known, for instance, that the younger Snape would reach over and take her hand in solidarity, staring at her wordlessly for several minutes.

"You won't be alone in this anymore, Granger," he said firmly, holding her hand tightly. "Dumbledore may be a brilliant wizard, but this is a burden no one should carry alone. Just tell me how to help, and I will."

The moment felt surreal as Severus's words registered in her mind, her vision swimming.

She was not alone anymore.

"You have to understand," Hermione said quietly, "what this means in the long run. I'm working against the people you've started to be friends with, Severus. I know how you feel about the Dark Arts, and after what happened with Lily… I know you've gotten closer to them."

"I thought you would appreciate that I would have access to their information, Hermione," said Severus in a light tone, looking at Hermione with a mix of smugness and mischievousness.

Hermione raised her eyebrows incredulously. "You would do that?"

"You are so daft sometimes," said Severus in wry disbelief. "Did you honestly think, after telling me all this, that I would continue on the path I was headed to? That I would abandon yet another friend?"

"But Lily—"

"Forget about Lily!" Severus hissed. "This isn't about her, this is about  _you_. And the safety of this world against the Dark Lord. There are people I need to protect too, so I am  _offering_  you my help in the matter."

Stunned into silence, Hermione could do little but stare at Severus. She looked down, noting he was still holding her hand in a ferociously tight grip. It loosened immediately, until Severus released her and shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"Okay," she said finally. Hermione broke into a smile. "This is—this is so much more than I could have expected." She shook her head slowly in wonder. "Thank you. Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."

Severus gave a little smile, but darkness was hidden in his eyes. He was still thinking about everything she had told him, and was still trying to come to terms with it. Something was different in the way he looked at her now. Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what it was.

And then she recognized it—it was such a familiar look, one that she recalled Harry received so often—a look of pity.

A spark of anger flared in her, but she did not have time to react on it. The door to the bakery opened, letting the bell on the door to ring a few times. A shadow fell over the two, and Hermione looked up.

"Well, well," Severus pursed his lips, his eyebrows pinched in a dark expression. "If it isn't the lost stray."

Sirius glared at him briefly, but ignored him. "Mrs. Potter wanted me to find you," he muttered to Hermione. "She told me you'd be here. Something's come up at home."

"Alright," she nodded. Glancing briefly at Severus, who was already rising from his seat, she smiled unsurely. "Goodbye, Severus."

"Hermione," he nodded curtly, and gave one last look of pure loathing to Sirius, who was only too keen to give one in return. "I'll keep in touch," he told Hermione briefly, before exiting the bakery.

"Ready?" Sirius asked tightly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What is it, then?" Hermione asked as they left the bakery. "What's happened at home?"

Sirius shrugged. "She didn't tell me. I came home and she just sent me right back out to get you."

Hermione frowned, biting her lip. What could have happened that she sent Sirius to get her? Hermione checked her watch. It was still only five o'clock….

"So, you and Snivellous?"

Hermione looked at him sharply. Sirius looked as if trying to suppress a grin, but failing.

"You know we're friends," Hermione said tartly.

Sirius gave a sour look. "You do know what he said to Lily, right?"

"Yes, I know. And he knows he was wrong." Sirius made a disgusted noise, and Hermione glared. "And you bullied him because you were bored! Don't try to make yourself look better."

"You can't compare what I did to what he did. What Snape said is something far worse than any hex I have ever thrown," Sirius remarked, shoving his hands in his jeans.

"And he knows it! He's apologized to Lily. And she's forgiven him."

Sirius was taken aback. "How do you know that?"

"Lily and Severus are my closest friends," Hermione sniffed. "They've been writing to me all summer."

"So they're friends again?"

Hermione looked away. "I don't know that much."

Sirius let out his breath slowly. They walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Sirius finally spoke again. "Have you… spoken to Regulus?"

He would not meet her eyes when Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "A little," Hermione said honestly. "Before vacation started, I spoke to him briefly. But not enough to talk about… you know."

Sirius made no reply. He appeared to be walking stiffly now, a worried look in his eyes. "He doesn't have much longer," replied Sirius quietly. "I have to do something. Or else he'll never be able to escape."

Just as Hermione was about to reassure him that she would be sending and owl his way soon, the sound of a massive cannon firing caused both of them to jump in fright. The ground shook as Hermione and Sirius immediately ducked to the ground.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Sirius exclaimed.

"That didn't sound right," Hermione breathed. "I think it was something magical."

"What, like  _reducto_  or something?" Sirius asked in concern. He helped Hermione to her feet and kept a protective arm around her, looking ahead. They could see smoke and bits of debris from the corner of the road behind from where they were walking.

"Come on, somebody might be hurt," Hermione urged him forward, and they ran to the end of the sidewalk. Across the street, a small shop was billowing smoke. She squinted to read the name of the shop, but it seemed to have blasted off.

"The person who did this might still be here," said Sirius lowly, his hand reaching his back pocket. Hermione stayed his hand.

"Be careful," she warned. "Don't use that unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I know," said Sirius. Neither dared take out their wand in the broad of daylight, but both were ready to whip it out in case someone started to attack. Sirius peered closely at the shop. "The person who did this doesn't seem to be there. No one's come out."

"Let's go, then."

Sirius and Hermione cautiously crossed the road and peered inside the blasted shop. Hermione coughed, covering her face with her arm. "Can you smell that?"

Sirius grimaced, coughing slightly as he took another breath. "Yeah. There's definitely traces of a magical signature in the air. This was no accident."

"But this is a muggle shop," Hermione said in confusion. "Why would someone attack a random muggle shop?"

"Haven't you been reading the papers, Hermione?" Sirius frowned. "Blimey, and I don't mean to be disrespectful at all, but your own family was attacked and they were muggles. This is their sport," Sirius gave a disgusted look at the shop. "Killing and torturing muggles is just a game for them."

Hermione swallowed hard, trying not to be overwhelmed by the fear gripping her insides. She reached over and pushed against the wooden door, wincing when it crumbled at her touch. Glancing nervously at Sirius, they both stepped inside.

The inside of the shop lay in ruin. Bits of paper were scattered and charred everywhere, a strong smell of ink and ash filling her nostrils. "Do you know what this place was?" asked Hermione.

Sirius shook his head. "I can't remember. Never really walked down this street. The shops keep changing over the years too, when the muggle closes his business and another takes over."

Hermione nodded distractedly. They did a search around the shop and found nobody inside, much to their relief. Hermione stepped over a thick piece of paper that wasn't completely ruined, and bent down to pick it up. The text was faded and ash-ridden, and Hermione blew on it to get rid of the debris.

"What is that?" Sirius asked over her shoulder, peering at the piece of paper. Hermione's stomach plummeted as she made out the words, feeling suddenly very dizzy.

"It's a business card," said Hermione faintly. "Of Xenophilius Lovegood."

Sirius furrowed his brows deeply, narrowing his eyes at the paper. "Is that the man who writes for  _The Quibbler_?" Hermione nodded. "Why does a muggle shop owner have that bloke's business card?"

Hermione stepped back and glanced at the remains of the shop, the puzzle pieces slowly fitting. "Look around you, Sirius," she whispered harshly. "What kind of store do you think this was?"

"A…" Sirius glanced around, taking in the paper and the broken bits of machinery. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "This was a supply shop."

"Of paper," Hermione confirmed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "Mr. Lovegood probably bought loads of paper off of the muggle who sells it here."

"But why from a muggle?" asked Sirius with a deep frown.

"Why not? It makes sense, doesn't it?  _The Quibbler_  is constantly writing about muggle equality and all sorts of eccentric things—who better to acquire paper from? They're setting their own example by it."

"Or maybe nobody else in their right mind in the Wizarding World would want to supply paper to someone like him," Sirius observed. He took her by the arm urgently. "We need to get out of here now, before somebody else arrives. We don't want to be caught at the scene."

"You're right," Hermione agreed. "Let's go."

Quickly and quietly, Sirius and Hermione slipped out of the destroyed paper shop and crossed the street, dashing through alleys. They no longer felt safe taking main roads, and criss-crossed through the town until they reached Godric's Hollow.

The door to the Potter house opened the moment they stood in front of the door. Dorea Potter was waiting at the door, and she grabbed Sirius and Hermione and roughly pulled them inside.

"Where have you been?" she hissed, closing the door behind them. She saw the state of Sirius and Hermione's clothes and blanched. "What happened? Why are you covered in dust?"

"There was an explosion on the way home," Hermione informed her, but apparently she could not have said anything worse. Dorea's eyes nearly popped from their sockets, and she pushed them away from the landing and into the living room.

James was leaning against a sofa, but immediately sprang forward when they were shoved onto the couch. "Thank Merlin," he sighed in relief. His face was stricken with worry, and Hermione was filled with confusion.

"What is it? Why is everybody on edge?" asked Hermione. She glanced between Dorea and James. "And where's Mr. Potter?"

"He's been called away at the ministry," said James quietly.

"What happened on your way home, Sirius?" asked Dorea seriously, her voice low and even.

Sirius straightened slightly at the sudden attention on him. "I picked up Hermione from the bakery, and on our way home, there was an explosion. One of the muggle shops had been attacked."

James and Dorea exchanged troubled looks, and Dorea said, "And?"

"We—well, we checked to see if anybody was hurt—"

"You shouldn't have!" exclaimed reprovingly at Sirius and Hermione, who winced at the sudden shouting. "In these times, if you hear loud bang outside,  _you leave immediately!_ "

"Somebody could have been hurt!" Hermione interjected hotly. "We couldn't just leave!"

"And how would two teenagers help, hmm? Are you planning on putting law enforcement out of business? They're there for a  _reason_."

Hermione and Sirius said nothing. Sirius's fist was clenched tightly, and Hermione felt very much the same. Nothing they could say would earn them any kindness tonight.

"Which store was attacked?" asked Dorea finally. Her anger seemed to have abated for the time being.

"It was a muggle supply store for paper," Sirius replied. He looked at Hermione for a moment, wordlessly asking her permission. Hermione reached into her pocket, and withdrew a charred piece of paper. She handed it to Dorea.

"We found this there," she said, and Dorea inspected it worriedly.

"Xenophilius Lovegood?" she whispered. James took a step back, his mouth parted in shock.

"Oh…" he breathed, and before anyone could say anything, James sprinted to the staircase.

Hermione looked back at Dorea with a frown. "Why did you send Sirius to get me? What happened before the explosion?"

Dorea looked at her gravely, her lips pursed. "The dark mark was spotted over a house nearby," she said. "We were told it was very close to Godric's Hollow. Charlus left for the ministry immediately."

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest. It was starting already. Things were already moving too fast, this was too soon, she only had destroyed a single horcrux—

The sound of tapping against glass sounded inside the living room. An owl was pecking insistently at the window, and Dorea immediately crossed the room and took the letter from its leg.

"What is it?" asked Sirius impatiently. Dorea looked up in surprise.

"It's addressed to you," she said. "To both of you."

Sirius and Hermione exchanged troubled looks, and Hermione reached for the letter. Hermione ripped open the envelope with trembling hands. There was no emblem or insignia, just their names. Inside was a small slip of paper.

Written in unmistakable handwriting, as if scribbled in desperate haste:

 _Help me_.

Hermione looked at Sirius in horror.

"Regulus," said Sirius bleakly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I want to thank Sigridhr again for beta'ing this fic. She is seriously amazing. If any of you enjoy the Avengers/Thor, Star Trek, Amelia Peabody, or the Tolkien series, her works are definitely worth a read.
> 
> Some important things will be rolling out now that Severus knows and Sirius is a sudden partner in Hermione's little detective work soon-to-come. I can't wait until Xenophilius Lovegood is introduced. I can't wait until everyone and everything is introduced. You guys are going to hate me forever (but in a really good way).
> 
> As always, you guys have shown me so much generosity in the kindness of your reviews and feedback. I swear I try to answer all of them, and I sincerely apologize if I've missed replying to some of you!
> 
> Until Chapter 14! xx


	14. Lovegoods and Revelations

**CHAPTER 14**

_Lovegoods and Revelations_

"He's a strong one, dear Aunt," Bellatrix said softly, a long fingernail running idly down his arm. "You did well today. Kept your family's honor alive."

Regulus stared at his mother across the room, who held his gaze steadily. The pride in her eyes tantamount to satisfaction sickened him. Here, finally, he felt the unadulterated hatred that his cousin was trying to pry out of him, but not in the form she wanted.

Icy fingers gripped him suddenly by the cheeks, puckering his lips as he was forced to look into hard, black eyes. "Are you ready to prove your worth to the Dark Lord?"

His eyes flitted to his mother one last time. A flash of annoyance crossed her face at Bellatrix's grip on Regulus, but other than a deep frown, she made no move to stop her. Sirius's irritating face popped up in his mind then. For so long he thought Sirius to be the idiot of the family, the one who broke his mother's heart when he left Grimmauld Place. Sirius, who had escaped.

His throat was too dry, and he knew that any word he'd utter at that moment would be nothing but a hoarse whisper. So instead, he gave a curt nod. Bellatrix's unchecked fingernails dug even deeper into his skin.

A pleased grin spread on her lips, and she bounced backward in her approval. "I knew I could trust you, baby cousin. Gather your things," she made a careless gesture for him to move to the staircase, "your initiation awaits."

Cold dread filled his stomach. Regulus's eyes flitted to his mother.

"Upstairs, Regulus. Mummy has to talk to your cousin for a bit." Regulus nodded and turned around wordlessly, marching up the stairs. Faintly in the background he could hear her exchanging sharp words with Bellatrix. Mind racing, muscles tensed, Regulus strode to his room and quietly closed the door. He made for Celsus, opening his cage with trembling fingers and hastily scribbling a note on a scrap of parchment. The elegant owl ruffled his feathers with a worried hoot, unaccustomed to Regulus acting so strangely.

"Shush, shush," he whispered, tying the note with fumbling fingers. Celsus fluttered his wings again, and Regulus stroked his feathers soothingly. "Quick and quiet," Regulus murmured, looking into Celsus's sharp red eyes imploringly. "Make sure you are not seen, and return immediately. Don't wait for a reply. Okay?"

Celsus hooted affirmatively and took off without a sound.

Regulus sagged against the window. It was a stupid thing to do. He should not have written to them—no, he truly should not have. He'd put them all in danger. How would Sirius and Hermione help him? Sirius would not…he could hear the long-suffering words already…  _'I told you, Reggie, now look what you've done…made Mother proud, haven't you?'_

The door to his room flew open, and Regulus straightened. "Mother?" he said in confusion.

"No need to get ready so soon," she said crisply, appearing very pink in the face. The argument with Bellatrix must have been more taxing than he thought. "I've spoken with your cousin. You will begin your—services—at the proper date and time."

"And when is that?" he asked quietly.

"You'll know when." The stern look faded and she walked up to him, pressing her palm lovingly to his cheek. "You did the right thing, darling," she said, smiling proudly. "You've brought honor to our family again. You have no idea what this will mean, what future will await us…without this, without  _you_ …." She looked troubled for the briefest moment, as if tempted to say more. But she did not; Walburga Black pressed her lips into a thin smile and brushed them lightly against his cheek, and left the room.

When he was younger, much younger than now, he might have agreed. The details were always obscured, because back then his mother would gently explain these sentiments to him and he would listen with wide-eyed wonder, but never a minute later Sirius would pull him to the side and tell him that mother was wrong. He was tugged on both sides since birth, Sirius wishing him to ignore the family motto and his parents wanting Regulus to uphold it. It wasn't until he learned the absolute power of forbidden magic that he began to sway the other way. Who  _wouldn't_  be interested in that kind of magic, with power and possibilities beyond his wildest imagination?

But this— _this_  is not what he wanted. Not after Bellatrix…not after what he had seen, and what he had done. Not when the Dark Lord personally asked for him; when his mother relied upon him so heavily in the name of family honor; when Sirius found an escape from this house and showed him there was an alternative; when Hermione Granger was able to wield dark magic but did not taint her hands with the malice behind it.

Regulus blinked at the realization. Hermione Granger was actively curious about dark magic—she  _used_  dark magic—and yet she could not be more different than Regulus. They were one of the same, and yet their fates could not be more different.

Regulus walked slowly to his bed and sat down. His back was straight and his countenance calm. Celsus reappeared at the window, letting herself in and looking hopefully at Regulus. He reached over and fed Celsus a treat, earning him an appreciative nip on the finger.

Abruptly, Regulus walked to his desk once more and picked up his quill.

**xxx**

"Sirius, slow down—" Hermione stumbled on the stairs as she tried to match Sirius's long strides, "—will you wait! You can't just rush into this—"

They reached the top of the stairs and Sirius threw open his bedroom door. Hermione hesitated for a fraction of a second before following him inside. Sirius was moving things around haphazardly, as if looking for something, and made a noise of triumph when he found a piece of parchment.

Hermione's eyes widened and her hand shot to his wrist to stop him. "No," she said fiercely. "It's not safe. You cannot owl him."

"Let go, Hermione."

"Listen to me. Think about what Mrs. Potter just told us. The Dark Mark was sighted here and we saw a store get blasted into pieces, and now Regulus sends for help? We both know what's really going on here, and I'm telling you we have to  _think this through_."

"He's my brother," said Sirius angrily.

"The letter has my name on it too," said Hermione sharply. "And we have to think carefully about what we do next." Hermione slid her hand from his wrist to grasp him firmly by his hand. "Please, just  _think_  for a moment what will happen if your owl is intercepted. If someone other than Regulus reads your reply and gets wind that he asked for  _your_  help, they will hurt him as well as us."

Sirius's body tensed briefly. He returned her grip on his hand, looking angrily at the ground. The muscle jumping in his jaw slowly ceased. Finally, he met her eyes again, cold grey irises filled with trepidation.

"What, then?"

"Well," she started, but did not know what to say. Her eyes darted around the room unsurely before landing on the window. She pointed at it. "We could start by letting that owl in."

A large black owl had just swooped down at Sirius's window and began tapping the glass impatiently. Sirius unlatched the window and untied the note, jumping slightly when the owl launched into flight without further preamble. Closing the window tightly, Sirius sat next to Hermione and ripped open the note.

_All is well. Don't send a reply owl._

"That's it?" Sirius said incredulously, turning over the letter to check the back. Hermione let out a sigh.

"I told you," Hermione said shakily, reading the note herself. "Sending an owl would've been disastrous."

"This doesn't explain anything. What happened? How do I get in contact with him?" Sirius kicked a box by his bed angrily. "Bloody git! This is just like him! Riling us up, then lying through his teeth! I bloody hate him!"

Hermione said nothing. She was worried at what could be happening right now at Grimmauld Place, wondering what could have compelled Regulus, who wasted no time declaring his absolute hatred for Sirius, to ask him for help. And why did he address Hermione as well? Their last exchange was far from friendly.

"One thing is for certain," Hermione said quietly. She looked at Sirius gravely. "He's being initiated to the Death Eaters. There's no other explanation why he would owl us these messages on the day all these attacks happened."

Sirius gazed back at her intently, as if trying to solve a riddle in her eyes. "I agree," he said finally. "There's no doubt about it. My idiot little brother is going to be one of them. But he doesn't want it anymore. I'm not sure if he wanted it at all. He was always fond of the dark arts—no, he bloody loved it. He just didn't realize there was a difference between fascination and practice."

"So what do we do?"

Sirius shrugged with a deeply frustrated scowl. "Hell if I know. Can't bloody owl him, can we? And I'm not about to knock on the door to my house and ask to see him. We'll just have to wait and see if he contacts us again."

"I don't think he can, or will. We have to get him out of that house," Hermione frowned deeply, chewing her lower lip in thought. An idea sparked in her head. "Snape!" she exclaimed.

Sirius gave her an ugly look.

"Regulus is friends with Snape," Hermione said emphatically. "I could, I don't know, owl Snape and ask  _him_  to owl Regulus saying he wants to see him. And we'll be there when they meet up. Nobody would suspect Snape to be working with us."

"Yeah, with good reason," said Sirius bluntly. "He won't help us, Hermione, or have you forgotten that Snape marches with the Slytherin Death-Eaters-To-Be day and night at Hogwarts?"

"I know him better than you think, Sirius," said Hermione firmly. "He hates you, yes, but I will be the one to ask him. He'll listen, I'm sure of it."

"You have an awful lot of faith in him, you know," said Sirius. "I know judging you in the past hasn't gotten me very far, but there's a reason why Snape doesn't get on with anyone. He knows more dark magic than anyone in the school. He's just no good, Hermione."

"I know," said Hermione quietly. "You're not wrong in thinking this. You've known him for five years so you know what he's been like." Hermione shook her head. "But _I_  know him too, and you have to understand that there's more to people than black and white. He's grown up, Sirius, and so have you. This time last September, you would've considered hexing me just for the  _thought_  that I'd ask help from Snape. People change. Trust me on this."

Sirius looked unconvinced. Hermione sighed loudly. "Do you have any other brilliant idea of how to help Regulus? No?" Sirius scowled at her, but said nothing. "Well, there we have it."

"Not today then," Sirius deflated. "We'll wait a few days before doing anything. It would be…safer…for him, I think."

Hermione nodded, inspecting him warily. For the time being, he seemed ready to let it go. "Where's James run off to?" Hermione suddenly remembered, realizing she last saw him run up the staircase frantically several minutes ago.

Sirius shrugged.

"Let's go then," Hermione stood up and strode out of the room. Reaching the door, Hermione knocked twice. "James?"

"Don't bother," Sirius rolled his eyes and opened the door.

James was sitting on his bed, glasses drooping to the point of his nose and holding a newspaper. "What you got there, mate?"

James looked up in surprise and sighed, tossing the paper towards Sirius. "Nothing. I thought maybe there'd be something in here, but there wasn't anything. When you mentioned Xenophilius Lovegood, I couldn't help but be a little…worried."

Hermione sat down next to him. "Have you still been documenting the mysterious muggle deaths?"

James nodded. "I have, but there wasn't anything in the last issue. I dunno, mysterious deaths, the Dark Mark suddenly appearing, and that paper shop blowing up…this isn't a coincidence."

"I wish we had a television or something, just to see what's happening in the muggle world," Hermione said wistfully. "I suppose we could start a subscription to one of their newspapers…"

"A tele-what?" James asked with a puzzled expression.

"It's like a box with moving pictures and colors where people tell the news, or have movies and shows airing." Hermione explained. At Sirius and James's blank faces, she sighed. "I'll show you next time we're in the city."

"Regardless, we need to get to the bottom of this," Sirius continued firmly. "I can't just sit here waiting for something to happen. We need answers."

"Dorea would never allow us to leave the house any time soon, not after the Mark showed up," Hermione frowned.

"Not forever. And the first chance we get, we have to get to the bottom of this."

"We should see Xenophilius Lovegood," James said suddenly. "Anything could happen to him now, and despite the utter nonsense that's filled in the Quibbler, he was the only one to catch the strange deaths. I'm betting he got wind of the Death Eater's movements and he's been sent a warning."

"Death Eaters don't send  _warnings_ , with itching powder in an envelope," said Sirius mildly. "They set examples. If they wanted to hurt Xenophilius specifically, he would've been dead long ago."

"So you're saying that shop blowing up was coincidence?" asked Hermione skeptically.

"I'm saying we don't know anything for certain," said Sirius. "And James might be right here. We should go see him. There's nothing else we can do right now."

Hermione nodded. They had a point. Visiting Xenophilius could potentially answer several questions that had been eating at her mind for months.

"I just hope he's okay," Hermione said worriedly. "If he was a target, he must be in danger. The Ministry is probably seeing him now already."

The three paused their conversation when they heard the door slam loudly downstairs. Exchanging looks, they instantly flew out the door and to the living room, finding a very tired Charlus Potter settling down into an armchair.

Dorea stepped in urgently. "Well?" Her voice was wavering and afraid, as if terrified to know whose name he would say.

"There was nobody inside that house," Charlus said tiredly. "Very odd business. Ministry officials got rid of the Dark Mark, and when they went inside, it was empty. It's like they all vanished."

"What family lived there?" Hermione asked. Charlus exchanged looks with Dorea and shook his head.

"That's not for me to tell," said Charlus. "And it's best for your three not to meddle in this. These are dangerous times, not for three teenagers to try to solve."

"But Dad—" James protested.

"No," he said firmly. "Be grateful nobody has been seriously hurt. It's late now; you should be off to bed anyway."

James, Sirius, and Hermione stared mutinously. Dorea moved to them impatiently and started to shoo them away. "Up you go then, you heard him! In your beds!" Grudgingly they went up the staircase but stopped once they reached the hallway, leaning down the railing to hear if Charlus was telling Dorea any more, but it was not so.

"Probably cast a Silencing charm," James muttered.

Hermione sighed and headed to her room, wondering who lived in the house where the Dark Mark was cast.

**xxx**

"I don't feel right doing this," Hermione whispered harshly as they stealthily headed out of the Potter house. A full two weeks had gone by since the explosion at the muggle shop, and the Potters had kept Sirius, James, and Hermione on a strict rule that kept them from leaving the house without supervision.

The beginning was the worst. Sirius out of all of them was like a coiled spring, gaining energy each passing second and waiting to be released. The confines of James's house had never bothered him before, but the absolute restriction upon him and the rest of the family was one he had no real right to contest (at least, that was what he presumed), and to some vague degree understood. It did not mean, however, that he was quiet about it.

"I asked mum if we could have muggle food today," said James reassuringly. "And we're going out to get it."

"I don't think she had  _this_  in mind when she gave you permission," Hermione said breathlessly as they walked speedily down the block.

"We'll climb that hippogriff when we get there," said Sirius. "Do you have the address, James?"

"'Course," James assured. "It'll be a bit of a walk though. Damn, I wish Apparation was taught in fifth year instead of sixth. We could've done this much more quickly."

"We could always call the Knight Bus," Hermione suggested.

Sirius shook his head. "Too risky. Anyone could be on it who'll recognize us. I'd prefer a quiet affair, thanks."

They walked in silence for a length of time, the summer sun beating down particularly bright that day, causing a red flush on all of their cheeks. Hermione wished she had brought something to tie her mess of hair up.

James suddenly stopped.

"His house is just along this path," James pointed ahead. Hermione squinted.

"This is it?" asked Hermione, puzzled.

James nodded. "This is his address. He lives in a flat here." At Hermione's skeptical expression, he frowned, "What?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "Nothing. I just expected something different, I guess. Something more in the country."

Hermione was referring to her knowledge of where Luna lived. She knew the Weasleys and the Lovegoods were distant neighbors, but clearly she did not know for how long.

James shrugged, and together the three approached the front door. Standing nervously, no one moved to knock for a few moments. Sighing, Hermione leaned forward and knocked three times.

A shout came from within, and Hermione flinched. Sirius tensed to her right, and James watched curiously.

The door flew open, and the first thing they saw was electric blue eyes. Hermione faltered at the familiarity of them, and Sirius said, "Xenophilius Lovegood?"

"Are you here for the Thestral Convention?" asked Xenophilius excitedly. He appeared to be very young, perhaps two or three years older than them, his pale blond hair brushing his shoulders in tangled wisps. He was dressed in an extremely odd fashion, wearing multicolored robes with orange feathers poking out from the sleeves.

"The what?" asked Sirius, looking at him oddly.

"Clearly not then, what a shame indeed. Better to start off young, that's how it all begins anyway! Would you like to attend? Unless," a shrewd look suddenly overcame him, and Xenophilius looked at the trio suspiciously. "Are you solicitors? Consorts of the Ministry? Or of the Prophet? Don't tell me  _they're_  starting young as well."

"Have they been here, then?" asked James curiously.

Xenophilius sniffed. "They certainly have. Nearly couldn't finish my latest article on Scandinavian Bluff Imps, they stayed so long. I don't have time for that kind of interruption today, apologies! It's best you go," his voice turned business-like as he began to close the door, but Hermione stopped the door before it could.

"We're not from the Prophet or the Ministry!" Hermione interjected. "Please, sir, we just wanted to ask about your newspaper."

Xenophilius paused. "The Quibbler?" Sirius, James, and Hermione nodded vigorously. A brilliant smile broke out on his face, and Xenophilius pushed the door open wide. "Well why didn't you tell me from the beginning? Come in, come in! Lyanna, is there a pot of tea made? We have guests!"

No response came from within, but Xenophilius did not seem surprised. They entered what appeared like a grossly overpopulated antique shop; the furniture was misshapen and lumpy, and the walls were covered with bright green wallpaper that seemed almost luminescent. Dozens of bits and bobs were littered on every surface, with drawers and tables overflowing with strange objects, and the room lined with bookcases filled with potions supplies. It was an interesting duo of chaos and intellect, and if everything was not so horrifically  _much_ , Hermione would have appreciated it greatly.

She did not have time to dwell on the thought, however. Instantly they were seated at a wooden table in the shape of a pentagon, and five saucers were thrown haphazardly down by Xenophilius. Hermione realized belatedly that he was still talking, rapidly and excitedly. She slid her gaze to James, who was listening attentively. Sirius looked like he was just trying to keep up.

"Earl Grey?" Xenophilius asked, producing a pot in his hands.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione smiled politely. Xenophilius took a seat as well and folded his hands.

"So. So. Fans? Struggling with inspiration suddenly bursting forth?"

"Intrigued readers, sir," replied James.

Xenophilius gave a wounded look. "That again? Merlin, do I look like a 'sir'? When did that happen? Lyanna! Do you think I'm a 'sir' now?" No response came again. Xenophilius beamed. "I do think she's mocking me."

"Is Lyanna…?"

"My partner in crime," Xenophilius straightened in his seat proudly, fiddling with the golden band around his finger. "It's been about two years now, last I checked! Not the easiest, but certainly the most fun. She's a potions master, Lyanna. Graduated Hogwarts with distinction. Me though, I'm dead awful at potions. Never got the hang of precision and ingredients and simmering—but she does!" He grinned again. "So, what really brings you to my doorstep?"

Hermione exchanged glances with Sirius and James, before taking a breath. "Well, actually, you see—well, James here, he's been reading the Quibbler for a very long time—"

"Almost religiously," Sirius informed.

"—and he noticed that in a particular section of your paper, you listed some important, ah… _deaths_ , so to speak—"

"Patterns," James added, fussing with his hair in a way that almost seemed bashful.

"And it interested all of us, really," Hermione finished.

Xenophilius blinked. "Well, what? What was it that interested you?"

"It was the pattern of deaths in your obituaries, si—Xenophilius," James corrected quickly. "I've been reading both the Prophet and the Quibbler closely for a very long time, and I've noticed that the Daily Prophet…well, it tends to glance over the more menial, 'less important' cases. Most muggleborns and squibs aren't covered at all, but yours do—and you also document muggle deaths. And—and there's a pattern. It's what lead us here to speak to you in person."

"A pattern of deaths?" said Xenophilius, intrigued. "I—I suppose some of them could be considered, well,  _odd_ , but I never really thought more of it—"

"It's been very important that you documented them," Hermione said seriously. "With Death Eaters on the rise, and the political propaganda that's spreading amongst the pureblooded societies, this is  _exactly_  the kind of thing they wouldn't want the common witch or wizard to know. It's all being hidden and hushed, and maybe the Prophet doesn't realize it either, or the Ministry hasn't been giving it a top priority, but  _you_  have been writing about them."

For the first time since their meeting, Xenophilius was struck silent. He looked at the trio carefully, appearing much younger than Hermione thought he would be.

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly.

"You know about the shop that blew up two weeks ago?" Sirius inquired.

Xenophilius nodded slowly. "Ministry officials came by to ask me several questions, wondering if I was still alive. 'Course I knew it was all rubbish, I hardly think a Death Eater would target  _me_ ; I'm just a silly writer. Just a silly writer…"

"The shop that was targeted was the one that supplied parchment for you newspaper," said James, leaning forward in his seat. "I'm sorry, but I can't help but think this wasn't a coincidence."

"I'm afraid it was," said Xenophilius firmly. "What mad men do in their spare time is their own affair, and it was unfortunate that their muggle target was the supply shop I did business with. Now, I don't know what answers you were looking for when stopping by, but I fear that this is all the help I can give you. I know nothing else, nor did I suspect of a—a  _pattern_  of deaths, as you say—"

"But sir, please, we're just—"

"I'm sorry," Xenophilius shook his head furiously. "No, I really am. I'm afraid I'm just of no use to you right now. I genuinely do not know any more than I've told you already. I didn't suspect anything strange these past few months. There is nothing more I can do for you."

Hermione scowled and turned to Sirius impatiently. His eyes flickered to hers and she saw him nod mutely, his expression understanding. There was nothing else to be done today.

"We'll be off, then," said Sirius courteously. They stood up, and Xenophilius walked them to the door. "Just one more thing," Sirius added. "Have there been any more deaths lately? There was nothing in your last paper."

Xenophilius shook his head again. "No, actually. There haven't been any deaths in the muggle world or the wizarding world in the past few weeks." Suddenly Xenophilius's eyebrows knitted together, as if realizing something. He blinked and then cleared his throat, ushering them outside.

The door closed loudly behind them, and they walked a full three blocks before James exploded. "He didn't know anything! How could someone not know  _anything_  about what's going on? He's got his own newspaper, for Merlin's sake!"

"What a foul little man," Hermione bristled, her mind still buzzing with agitation. "Of all people, I never thought  _he'd_  be the one to say 'what mad men do in their spare time is their own affair'. The reason why these problems keep happening is because people keep ignoring them!"

"We did find out one important thing though," said Sirius gravely. "Nothing's been happening for weeks now. No random death. No suspicious activity that Xenophilius would usually catch. It's as if the Death Eaters have gone silent."

"The calm before the storm," said Hermione, a slight shiver passing through her. "I really…don't know what will happen now."

Sirius rubbed her shoulder and smiled at Hermione encouragingly. "None of us do. But that won't stop us."

The return to their home was a silent and stealthy affair once more; James signaled for them to come inside once he confirmed it was safe to do so—the last thing they needed after their unsuccessful meeting with Xenophilius Lovegood was Mrs. Potter's shouty disappointment.

Hermione closed the door to her room and sank onto her bed. After all she had anticipated when meeting Luna's father…this was far beyond her imagination. "How could he not know  _anything_?" Hermione whispered to the ceiling incredulously. Was it really all by random chance? Was everything James had been documenting really unnoticed by Xenophilius himself? Or was he merely saying that to throw them off?

Hermione did not know the answers to any of those, nor did she have much chance to dwell on them. A soft hoot came from her table, and Hermione jolted up in surprise.

"Did you let yourself in?" Hermione asked, bemused, as she walked over to her desk. The window was already open, and a tawny owl was perched atop her copy of  _Hogwarts, A History_. A letter was tied to the owl's leg and Hermione took it carefully. "Sorry if you had to wait a bit. I was out on a very uneventful goose chase. Here," she pushed a small dish of water, to which the owl took a generous gulp. Hooting gratefully, it waited for Hermione to read the letter.

Ripping the seal open, Hermione's eyes flew over the words written on the parchment. She read it twice more to be certain, and breathed in deeply. "You're waiting for a reply, right?" Hermione looked at the owl again. It ruffled its feathers affirmatively. "Hang on a minute, then."

Hermione left her room and crossed the corridor. The door to Sirius's bedroom was ajar, and she knocked twice before pushing it open.

Sirius was flipping through a catalogue when she poked her head in. He glanced up in surprise. "Hermione?"

She held out the letter as she let herself inside. "I think it's time."

Throwing the catalogue aside, Sirius launched to his feet and pored over the contents of the letter. "Tuesday?" he noted mildly. "Who the hell does anything on a Tuesday?"

"I'm not even going to try and understand what that means," Hermione said irately. "Severus knows what he's doing."

"He'd better," said Sirius, before reading the letter again. "Well, we should figure out what we're going to say to them. To Regulus, I mean." He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "I have no clue what we're going to do about this."

"We're going to try to help him," said Hermione softly.

"And how do we do that? 'Please Reggie don't become a Death Eater'?"

"Something more constructive is what I'm hoping for," Hermione remarked dryly. "First, we have to know exactly what is going on with him. No more ideas and half-guesses. What happens after that…we'll see. Come on."

They headed to Hermione's room where the owl was waiting patiently. Sirius clasped his hands behind his back casually as Hermione rummaged her desk for a quill. "Honestly…where in Merlin's name are all my quills?" Hermione muttered under her breath. "I think—maybe my trunk—oh whatever," Hermione grabbed a pencil and piece of parchment and scribbled her reply. "Where should we say to meet? The Leaky Cauldron?"

"And be seen by the entire wizarding population? No thanks," Sirius crossed his arms.

"You've been awfully paranoid lately," Hermione remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"When you have Bellatrix Black as a relative, you learn to be more cautious."

"Alright, then…someplace muggle? Outdoors?"

"Too many eyes watching."

"Inside?"

"Too many ears listening."

"Outer space, then? Or are there interplanetary wizards too?"

Sirius smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would've already if there were," Hermione rolled her eyes. "How about somewhere inside? We could go to that bakery Severus and I went to several weeks ago. It seemed safe enough for me, and not too crowded."

"Crowded would be preferred, actually…"

"Sirius, make up your mind!"

"Yes, yes, alright! To hell with it. Let's go to your muggle bakery."

Hermione folded the letter neatly into an envelope and sent the owl on its way. She smiled hopefully. "It'll be okay, Sirius. Trust me. We'll figure this out somehow."

"I'm sure," said Sirius calmly, a sharp contrast to his troubled expression. He picked up her pencil and inspected it, before drawing a scribble onto a sheet of paper. Knitting his eyebrows together, Sirius said, "If these things exist, why the hell are we still using quills and ink?"

**xxx**

The details of their rendezvous were sent back the next day with stern instructions written out carefully by Severus. Sirius managed not to roll his eyes more than ten times while reading the reply letter, and even began planning out what their cover story would be when telling the Potters where they were going.

"Explain to me again why I have to stay here, while you two traverse to a muggle café and have all the fun without me?" James folded his arms over his chest, the smallest trace of a pout forming on his bottom lip.

"Because, dear James, somebody has to stay behind and protect the family name," said Sirius, mirth dancing in his eyes despite the seriousness of the matter. "And it's not a café, it's a bakery."

"Because that makes all the difference in the world."

"You weren't really in the original plan, James," Hermione reminded. "Besides, having three people show up is far more suspicious than two. Two is small and discreet."

"And three is an army," said James dryly. "Very well. I'll stay. Just be safe, alright?" James looked at Sirius seriously. "I mean it. No funny business today, mate."

"I wouldn't today, you know that."

James nodded, and turned to Hermione. "Good luck."

Sirius and Hermione left the house without too much grief from the Potters. Things were starting to normalize again since the sighting of the Dark Mark weeks ago, and they realized that hiding and living in fear was no way to go about their business.

It was a healthy walk to the bakery from Godric's Hollow, but there wasn't much alternative. And while Sirius was normally good company, neither of them could be distracted from the task at hand today. Upon reaching the bakery, Hermione fiddled with her purse and glanced around surreptitiously. "I think it's safe," she murmured.

Sirius nodded. They walked inside and headed to a booth near the far corner. Neither Regulus nor Snape could be seen, and Hermione checked her watch.

"They're late," said Sirius under his breath.

"They're not late," Hermione sighed.

"If they're not here ten minutes early, they're late."

"Says who?" Hermione said in disbelief.

"The laws of etiquette," Sirius scowled.

"And I assume you wrote them?"

"I merely enforce them."

"So if someone were to arrive on time…?"

"They're  _very_  late."

"Yes, that makes  _complete_  sense—"

"It does, in fact—"

"Fighting like a pair of old hens already?" a smooth voice drawled over them, and they saw Severus standing before them with his hands in his pockets. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Sirius leaned sideways and glanced behind him. "No friends with you today?"

"He wanted to maintain a healthy distance while walking over here," Severus replied, with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. "Standards to keep, I'm told."

Sirius let out a genuine snort, and Severus narrowed his eyes. The door to the bakery swung open and in walked Regulus, flushed and slightly out of breath. Hermione's eyes roved over him and didn't detect any overt harm done to him, except he looked slightly thinner than when she last saw him on the Hogwarts Express.

Regulus slid into the booth wordlessly, choosing to sit beside Hermione. Snape looked over at Sirius in disgust, and Sirius refused to move over. Hermione scowled deeply.

"Sit. Down," she said through her teeth. "People are  _staring_."

That did the trick. Sirius shuffled a bit to let Severus sit beside him, but Severus sat at the very edge of the booth as to ensure the greatest amount of space was between them. Sirius moved as far as possible from Snape, both of them sitting uncomfortably with identically expressions of distaste.

"Did everything go alright?" Hermione spoke first. She looked to Regulus. "You got out of the house fine, right?"

"No questions were asked," he replied softly. "Snape's plan was a good one. Spending the day with a future Death Eater doesn't cause much suspicion in my family."

Severus flinched but said nothing. Sirius's expression darkened instantly, his hands gripping the wood of the table forcefully. "I knew it." He narrowed his eyes loathingly. "I—"

"No," Hermione cut him off with a stern look. "We don't have time for that."

Sirius gave her an incredulous look. "Hermione, open your eyes! He's bloody  _joining_  them!"

"And he brought your brother here to help him! Doesn't that mean there's something about this situation you're not aware of?"

Sirius still looked at Severus with repugnance, but she could see the confusion and questions in his eyes. "Why  _are_  you helping us, Snape? What are you doing here?"

Severus slid his eyes slowly to Sirius, fixing him with a carefully blank stare. "Hermione asked for my help. I'd thought you would understand what helping our friends means."

"And is my brother your  _friend_?"

Severus gave him a long-suffering look before turning to Hermione. "Can I speak to you in private?"

Hermione nodded slowly, avoiding Regulus and Sirius's stares, and slid out of the booth. She could feel Sirius burning a hole through the back of her head as she was pulled outside the bakery.

"Yes?" she asked Severus.

It took only a glance to see Severus's patience was wearing thin. Clenching his hands into light fists then loosening his grip, Severus sighed. "Don't you think this would be easier if they knew?"

It took a moment for her to understand what he meant. Hermione's eyes widened. "Are you  _mad?_  You think they're ready for that? They'll think I'm making it all up!"

"Would they?" Severus prodded. "I know it was… _difficult_ …telling me everything, and admittedly there was a period of disbelief for me, but don't you see how impossible it is right now to correctly explain to them why I am joining the Death Eaters, and how we could help Regulus out of this? How will Sirius and Regulus trust me to help if they don't believe I'm on their side?"

"Then tell them the truth about why you're joining! Because you're a-a spy!"

"And why would a sixteen-year-old want to be a spy for the Death Eaters? You honestly think they'll believe that, after knowing my…past history?" he said delicately. Hermione was panicking. No, she wasn't ready for that…she couldn't tell them she was from the future. It wasn't time yet to tell them—to tell  _Sirius_.

"I'm sorry. I can't tell them right now. It's just not the right time."

Severus looked at her frustratedly and turned away. She could feel his disappointment as it passed through her, but she would not change her mind. Severus didn't know just how dangerous it was to start this right now, in such a precarious situation.

"Then what do we tell them?" asked Severus finally.

Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe…as close to the truth as we can get. Maybe—maybe I don't have to tell them I'm from the future just yet, but I  _can_  tell them that I want to bring Voldemort's organization down." Severus shuddered violently.

" _Don't say that name out loud!"_

"It doesn't matter!" Hermione whispered harshly.

"There're ears everywhere, Hermione! It's not safe right now to be bold."

"Alright, alright," Hermione placated. "Well, what do you think? Giving that explanation could work. And it might actually smooth over some questions Sirius has been having about me."

Severus looked off in the distance again, thinking rapidly. "It will have to do."

They walked back inside and found Sirius and Regulus exactly as they left them; silent and stewing in each other's company.

"Nice chat?" asked Sirius innocuously.

Hermione didn't respond to Sirius's snark. "There are things that Severus and I have to tell you. But first, we need to focus on why we're here. Regulus?"

Regulus looked up, startled at the unexpected attention placed on him so soon.

"Yes?"

Hermione pinned him with a firm stare. "We can't even begin to help you unless we understand what's going on. You need to tell us what's happened, and what those letters you sent a few weeks ago mean."

Regulus's eyes flitted to Severus then Sirius, looking like a trapped animal. She could see the doubt and fear behind those grey eyes and the boyish face, already burdened at his young age. He swallowed convulsively as his eyes hardened, pulling up defensive walls that he was so accustomed to having.

He dropped his gaze. "I'm not sure what to tell you," Regulus answered quietly.

Sirius made a noise of impatience. "Damn it, Reg, just spit it out. We're just trying to help—"

"I don't  _want_  your help," Regulus hissed, his eyes flashing with anger. "Did that thought occur to you, or did it get stuck in that ridiculously long hair of yours?"

"You sent us a letter for help," Sirius reminded calmly, refusing to rise to Regulus's instigation.

"A mistake. I sent a reply if you remember, informing you that all was well."

"And yet here you are," Hermione interjected, arching an eyebrow. "You didn't have to agree to Severus's plan. You knew we would be here, and you knew why _you_  would be here. Stop trying to fool us and stop trying to divert us from what you're trying to hide. We can stay here all day, if that's how you want to do it."

Regulus fumed silently, glaring at Hermione with such intensity that Hermione had to fight away the impulse to fidget. She held his gaze steadfastly, until the coldness in his stare faltered; until his expression turned troubled once again and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Finally he broke away from her eyes and looked at his hands as they joined together tightly.

" _I don't want it_."

He spoke so softly that they almost missed it. Sirius inhaled sharply, but remained silent. Severus did not look surprised.

Regulus lifted his gaze and stared angrily back at Sirius. "Why did you have to leave? Why did you leave and force my hand into this?"

"I left for the same reason you're here," said Sirius patiently. "I didn't want that life."

"And now it is mine. I'm—I'm to be initiated this Saturday, keeping the family name sparkling and pristine." He looked away with his brows knitted together. "I didn't know…I didn't realize what this all meant until the Dark Mark happened…and now I'm  _stuck_."

"Do you want to leave?" asked Hermione softly. "It's—I don't think it's too late for that. Sirius left, didn't he? You could to."

"And go where?" Regulus sneered bitterly. "To the  _Potters_? You think they want another orphan under their roof? I would rather eat a jar of dung beetles than be indebted to yet another person."

"So you want to stay?" Sirius demanded. "Because you sound very resigned for someone who doesn't _want it_."

"I'm going to be initiated," Regulus repeated, his lips curling derisively. "That isn't going to change no matter what we discuss today."

"So that's it? You're just going to be a Death Eater?" said Sirius incredulously, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

"It's like we've said," Hermione frowned at Regulus. "Everybody has a choice, no matter what. Did you already make your choice?"

Regulus looked back at her intensely, his eyes wide and filled with an unnamable emotion. Slowly, he nodded.

Sirius leaned back heavily against the booth and glared at his brother. "You're a goddamn fool, Regulus. You don't want it, but you won't even try to leave it. The hell do you want us to do about that? What are you playing at?"

"I don't know!" Regulus exclaimed, a crazed look in his eyes. "I don't know, alright? I—I can't stop what's happening now, and I can't help but  _not_  want to be a part of it! I can't leave it because I have a responsibility now—and unlike you, I actually  _want_  to protect my family."

"Oh yes, our  _family_ ," Sirius seethed, his hands curling until his knuckles cracked. "A magnificent family  _we_ have. Was it the third or fifth time when we saw Bella perform the Cruciatus on our house-elves that you decided you wanted to protect that family? Or when dear old Father hung us by our toes for stepping out of line—how old were we there, again? Seven and six? And Mum, oh I could spin tales about  _her_ —"

"Don't you bring her into this," Regulus growled menacingly. "You know she's different,  _you know she is different!_ "

"Boys!" Hermione shrieked, alarmed. "We're in a bloody bakery! You need to calm down and lower your voices!"

"I have nothing left to say anyway," Sirius grimaced, standing up suddenly. "This was a waste of time."

"Just when I was wondering how long it would take for you to run away again," Regulus mocked.

"Regulus, for once in your life shut the hell up," Hermione snapped. "Sirius, sit down.  _Sit down_." She glared furiously at the elder Black brother until he acquiesced, collapsing back down on the booth with a brooding expression. Hermione glanced at Severus, who was quietly watching the scene.

"And thank you, Severus, for being so helpful these past few minutes," Hermione couldn't help the sarcasm that leaked into her voice. Severus blinked calmly.

"I think that argument was long overdue," said Severus silkily. "It wasn't my place to interfere just when they were getting somewhere. Now, I assume both of you have run out of unintelligent things to say?"

No response came except a paralleled sound of huffed breaths.

Severus smiled faintly.

"Good. Regulus," Severus turned his attention to the youngest of their company. "You're going to be a Death Eater. That seems fairly final from the way you've described it to us."

Regulus pursed his lips, but did not disagree. Severus continued, "And we know your family and your love of the Dark Arts brought this on you."

"It's not just a love for Dark Arts," Regulus interrupted, already appearing tired. "You know I am fond of all the practices this world has to offer. Why should I limit my knowledge to just what we're taught in school?"

"Because it's doing you  _so_  much good now," Sirius scoffed ruthlessly, staring at his brother as if he were constantly holding back the impulse to whack the back of his head.

"Not now, Black," Snape finally spoke to Sirius directly, giving him an irritated look. "The time for childish comments is over. We have to find a solution to our problem."

"Childish comments are fitting for a childish boy." Hermione kicked Sirius under the table, and he went silent.

Severus ignored them. "I already anticipated this to be your reason for initially contacting Hermione and Black, and then withdrawing your plea for help. I must ask for certainty, though, so answer truthfully." Severus leaned forward on the table, fixing Regulus with a firm stare. "Do you believe in the motto and practices of the Death Eaters and their leader? Do you  _agree_  with them?"

Regulus clenched his jaw as his muscles tensed. He shook his head firmly. "No."

Hermione could see the relief in Severus's eyes. He straightened abruptly and nodded. "Good. Then we have a solution."

Regulus frowned. "What solution could there possibly be?" asked Sirius bluntly.

Severus glanced at Hermione, and she inhaled deeply, bracing herself. "It's what I mentioned before, when I said Severus and I have some information that you should…probably know." She glanced nervously at Snape again. He nodded encouragingly.

This was it. Hermione's heart pounded in her chest as she let the words spill from her mouth, "We're going to try to bring down You-Know-Who's organization."

Hermione expected some disbelief or silence, but she did not anticipate the genuinely mirthful laughter that came from Regulus. Hermione gave him a withering look as he chortled, with some of Regulus's usual annoying charm reviving inside of him.

"Oh Granger," Regulus wiped his eyes. "Just when I thought you didn't have a sense of humor."

"You're joking," Sirius half-smiled, a sharp contrast to the worry building inside him.

"She's not," Severus confirmed. "It's why I'm going to join them. We need someone on the inside to bring him down."

Sirius was mumbling and shaking his head, rejecting the idea altogether. "No. No way. You can't do that. You're bloody sixteen; you think you can change the world? Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because Voldemort destroyed my life and my family," Hermione said evenly. All three of the boys sitting around her flinched to some degree. "I'm not afraid of saying his name, and I'm not afraid of  _him_. You think things are bad now? Think about how bad it will be a few years from now, if they're allowed to continue terrorizing the wizarding world! Not even that, they're targeting the muggle world as well! They're getting away with these supremacist ideas because they're catering to the pureblooded society of the wizarding world. And I—I'm not going to sit here and wait for them to come to my doorstep and kill me."

"Hermione," Sirius's voice was soft with understanding. "You know I agree with you. But just…how are you planning on doing this? How will you go up against people the Ministry of Magic can't control? This isn't a game; you can get seriously hurt! We're just…we're just a bunch of school kids." Hermione lifted her chin as a cold chill swept over her, and months of repressed words began to slither out.

"We are not children anymore. The violence will not stop because we're not ready for it. This war started the moment they cast their first Dark Mark into the sky."

Her eyes bright and cheeks flushed, Hermione waited for someone to rebuke her, to call her mad again…but the words never came. Regulus and Sirius were looking at her as if they were seeing Hermione for the first time.

"What is your plan?" asked Regulus quietly. "And how does this involve Snape? And, well,  _me_?"

"I will be part of the Death Eaters as someone who can relay information to our side," Snape replied in a low tone. "Like Regulus, my circumstances were already somewhat compromised before I was approached. I made it pretty obvious how I felt about the Dark Arts and…how I  _used_  to feel about muggles."

Sirius made a sound of disbelief, but did not comment. Hermione stepped in.

"The idea, Regulus," said Hermione, "is that, well, since you're being forced into the Death Eaters and don't actually agree with their work, you could do what Severus is. Ideally, you just wouldn't join," Regulus tightened his jaw, which Hermione ignored, "but since that isn't an option with you, I thought maybe this could be best. Severus will be there with you every step of the way too."

Regulus shook his head slowly, a laugh bubbling inside of him. "I really admire you, Hermione. Honestly, I do. We just barely tolerate each other, but you're probably the only Gryffindor student I admire. But you're—you're forgetting something," Regulus actually laughed a little. "I don't think you fully understand what Snape and I will be doing as Death Eaters. Do you really understand? If you want us to be spies, we have to be utterly convincing. The Dark Lord can read minds, they say, and me—I'm a bloody open book! He'll see right through me. And the things I will have to do…the things I've already done…" Regulus shook his head violently. "No, you  _don't_ understand. It's like Sirius said, this isn't a game. I'm—I'm going to have to do things, unspeakable things!"

"You are also choosing this life!" Sirius nearly shouted. "Hermione is trying to suggest to you, instead of wasting away there like you already plan to, you could  _help us_."

Regulus deflated and looked down at his hands. Hermione frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Regulus…what did you mean by 'the things I've already done'? You don't—you don't mean—?"

Regulus lifted his head and his expression was raw with agony. His eyes slightly red, he croaked brokenly, "I did something terrible, brother."

Sirius went still. His eyes went wide and he reached over to grip Regulus's wrist.

"You—you weren't involved in what happened a few weeks ago, were you?..."

Hermione averted her eyes at what she saw. It was as if something finally fractured inside Regulus and he was doubling over, hands sliding into his black hair and curling into fists. Hermione looked frightfully at Sirius, who was looking at Regulus blankly.

"I didn't—I didn't do much," Regulus mumbled as he slid his hands down to rub his eyes. "I wasn't really involved, since I'm not initiated yet, but…I saw what they were doing…I saw and heard things, and I did nothing to stop it…I stood there, horrified, terrified, with my mouth shut and my wand at the ready. Is this what my life is going to be from now on? Am I going to be the one terrorizing these people? Will I be the last thing somebody sees?"

"Stop," said Sirius fiercely. He leaned over and grabbed Regulus by the chin, forcing him to look up. His eyes were dry but red, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Now that Hermione thought of it, that was probably close to the truth. "If you keep your head down, and listen to what Snape and Hermione here have to say, that will never happen. Understand?  _Never_."

"He's right," Hermione nodded gently. "You have to trust us, Regulus. And you're forgetting you still have three more years at Hogwarts. You'll be free from any real duties throughout the school terms."

Regulus breathed deeply and scrubbed the side of his face. "I still don't understand how you're planning on dismantling the Death Eaters movement. Have you even told any  _adults_  about this, at least?"

Hermione cleared her throat sheepishly. "Well, no. But I probably will have to soon. I'm not exactly sure yet. As for what I plan to do to take it down, let me worry about that. It's, well, it's why I've been asking and doing a lot of the things I was doing this year." Her eyes flickered to Sirius's meaningfully, who narrowed his eyes questioningly. "I'll tell you the details later. I don't think it's safer to discuss all of our plans here out in the open…"

Hermione glanced around and was surprised no one was paying them any heed. The bakery was quite crowded as it was, but Hermione was certain it was because it was the only store on the block that had air conditioning.

"I think the point of this," Sirius began quietly, "is to make sure you know that you don't have to do this alone. You did the right thing when you sent those letters, Reg. No matter what shite we've had between us these past four years, you're still my family. And…well, now that I know what's actually going on in that head of yours…" Sirius grunted awkwardly. "Anyway, it'll be alright. Okay? You'll be fine so long as you stick with us."

"Keep in touch with Severus," Hermione ordered. "You'll need him the most if you want to survive this ordeal. You're lucky you're both in the same house."

"Lucky," Regulus snorted bitterly. "Yeah, that's what I am…lucky Regulus Black…"

Hermione glanced around. "It's best we leave now. It's getting late."

Severus and Regulus got up first, and Sirius and Hermione slid out of their booth after them. The sun was just about to dip behind the horizon, still giving streams of evening rays of light down the streets. Severus and Regulus disappeared down one of the streets quickly. Severus said his goodbyes to Hermione before leaving; Regulus simply walked away as fast as he could.

Sirius and Hermione began to walk the long trek back home. She glanced furtively at Sirius, observing that his brow was furrowed in deep thought.

"Bee in your bonnet?" she attempted to lighten the mood. It failed spectacularly.

Sirius shrugged his shoulder lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Hermione bit her lip and looked away. "Just say it, Sirius."

Sirius shook his head firmly, keeping his eyes averted. Hermione's concern escalated. "I can tell you want to say something. Just tell me."

"I—" Sirius paused as they stopped at the corner of the sidewalk. "Why didn't you tell us from the beginning, Hermione? I'm…how did Snape know this was what you were doing before us?"

Hermione nodded, keeping their eyes locked. "Snape was my first friend. He grew to suspect me like you did too, but that's where he was different from you—he trusted me. And he also  _earned_  my trust."

Sirius looked at her as if she'd knocked the wind out of him. Hermione broke their gaze and stared off into the distance. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner about what I've been planning. It had to be at the right time, when you were ready to know. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah," Sirius exhaled slowly, looking down. "Yeah, I understand. I suppose…I feel like a real asshole now, you know? I was such an asshole. I feel like I tell you this every time we speak to each other. Sirius Black, the Magnificent Asshole."

"Yeah, you were," Hermione agreed with a nod. She smiled lightly. "But you're not anymore. At least, not where it counts."

Sirius smiled back sheepishly, and they resumed walking. "So does that mean you trust me a little bit more now?"

"What, telling you my diabolical plans wasn't proof enough?"

**xxx**

"We are old maids. We are literally old maids. Every time you spend a day with Hermione you come back and report to us all the gossip," said James in a mildly revolted tone.

"This isn't gossip; this is actually serious stuff," Sirius exclaimed.

Remus shook his head. "James is right, mate. Last time we discussed something like this, I ended up not really talking to Hermione for months. I'm not about to do that without hearing what she has to say first."

"Agreed," Peter piped in.

"I can literally pull her in here and have her  _tell you_  this herself," said Sirius exasperatedly.

"Well go on," James arched an eyebrow.

Sirius sighed and stood up, striding out of James's room. He knocked twice on Hermione's bedroom door.

"Come in."

Sirius poked his head in her room. "Remus and Peter are here. Wanna fill them and James in on what happened today?"

Hermione blinked. "Er, yeah, sure? Wait, why are they here? Why didn't you tell me they came!"

Sirius waved away her questions. "Too much work. Just come by, won't you? I think they're—how do I put this mildly—'tired of my shit'?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and followed him back to James's room. The next hour was absolute chaos, and it made Hermione very grateful that she didn't tell them  _everything_  about her existence, like Snape had encouraged for her to do yesterday.

"Hermione have you gone  _mad_?"

"Have you told anybody else?"

"Snape apparently knew—"

"—And your brother too, now—"

"Hermione—my sweet  _sister_  Hermione—surely there's a method to this madness, right? You're not—I mean to say…if this is about revenge…" He was cut off with a hard punch to the arm.

"Shut up, James."

Hermione rubbed her temples. She could feel the headache coming already, and she'd be damned if she let this tirade continue. "Your concern is really, really very kind. Honestly, it warms my heart to hear this. But I know what I'm doing, alright? If you know anything about me, it's that I don't do anything without thinking it through."

"How can you possibly achieve this alone?" asked Remus, stricken. "Merlin, you haven't even told an adult…this is so reckless, even for you."

"Pardon?"

"What he means is that you're going about this entirely the wrong way," Peter explained gently. "Going one-on-one against You-Know-Who and his followers is just asking to be targeted, Hermione. You need to think this through."

"You don't understand," Hermione shook her head. "And it's okay that you don't. But like James said, there is a method to my madness. I…can't really tell you any of the details right now. It's safest that way. But you have to promise to keep this to yourself, and you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"We already can and will," said James impatiently. "It doesn't stop us from worrying. This is—I'm sorry Hermione, but this is all wrong. You shouldn't be doing this."

Hermione scowled. "This is…this is rich coming from a bunch of rule breakers, don't you think? Where's your sense of adventure and—and justice?"

"If we get caught we get  _detention_ ," James emphasized. "If you get caught you'll be  _murdered!_  Don't you understand just how dangerous this is?"

"We're living in a dangerous world," Sirius replied quietly. "We're at danger every time we step foot outside the door. If we don't start fighting back now, things will only get worse."

Hermione looked at Sirius, shocked that he had come to her defense. He folded his arms and shrugged.

"Someone needs to at least know that Snape and Regulus are going to be working for the good side," Peter mentioned concernedly.

"Dumbledore?" Remus suggested.

"After they're initiated," said Sirius firmly. "Once the school year starts. I have to agree with them on this, Hermione. Somebody other than a bunch of teenagers has to know. People who have positions of power and knowledge that we can trust."

"Fine," Hermione reluctantly agreed. Dumbledore was going to know about Snape being a Death Eater in the future anyway. There was no harm in speeding it up. But how on earth she was going to bring it up, Hermione didn't have the foggiest.

"Blimey, it's almost time, isn't it?" James looked at his watch. "Remus?"

Remus rolled his eyes, grinning. "You just want to start early, don't you."

"I feel stifled in this human body, Moony."

"Am I missing something?" Hermione asked unsurely. The four boys froze, exchanging glances in a silent conversation. Remus nodded, and James sighed. He walked up to Hermione and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Hermione, there's something you should know."

Hermione raised her brows.

"I'm a stag."

"You're a…"

"Stag. Deer. Spirit of the forest. Protector of the wood."

"What the idiot is trying to say is that he's an animagus," said Remus wryly. "We all are, except me of course."

"Since you trusted us with a pretty big secret, it seemed about time to tell you about this one," said Peter, somewhat abashed. Hermione nodded impressively. So they figured it out how to transform already? She felt everybody staring at her, as if waiting for some reaction—right, right, she wasn't supposed to already know they were animagi, was she?

Hermione widened her eyes in shock and gasped lightly. "You—wait, are you registered? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to try being animagi on your own?" Perfect.

"Sounds like a familiar argument, doesn't it Sirius?"

"That it does, James."

"Interesting."

"I'm serious," Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What made you want to be animagi anyway?"

"Well," James sauntered over and slung an arm around Hermione's shoulders, and they sat down together on James's bed. "We've known from the beginning about Remus's, ah…furry little problem."

Peter snorted and Remus rolled his eyes.

"So naturally, we wanted to be there with him to help," James continued conversationally. "Granted, our methods were a little more extracurricular and frowned upon—"

" _Illegal_ ," Hermione corrected.

"Sure, sure. We did it to help our best friend. And revealing what we've done already isn't going to help anyone, is it?"

"I suppose not," Hermione admitted. "Hang on. Is that why all of you are here? It's the full moon tonight, isn't it?"

"Clever and deductive," James smiled. "Yes. And don't say you want to come along, because it's too dangerous even for us. You aren't an animagi."

_Yet_ , Hermione thought to herself. She shrugged. "I wasn't planning on asking anyway. I have plans."

"What plans?" asked Remus curiously. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Sirius knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "Who would be coming here at eight o'clock?"

Hermione smiled mysteriously as her gaze passed over James, lingering on him for a moment before standing up and wordlessly leaving the room. James watched her leave with a dumbstruck expression.

"What did that mean?"

"I dunno, James, but I think we should follow her," Sirius crept towards the door, and the rest of them followed suit. Walking slowly down the staircase, the four marauders were greeted with an open front door and a brilliant flash of red hair.

"E-Evans?" James spluttered.

Lily smiled serenely. "Potter." She looked up at the rest of the boys and smiled again. "Are you leaving already?"

"We're going back to my house," Remus lied, which Hermione presumed was the excuse he'd also given to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. "Sleepover, you see."

"We could stay for a little while, though, couldn't we?" James rounded on Remus with wide eyes that both threatened and pleaded.

"Mate, look at the time," Sirius pointed to his watch. Hermione tried not to laugh when she saw James visibly deflate.

"Right, yes, it's actually time to go now," James muttered morosely, resigned at the turn of events. "We ought to leave, then…hang on, Lily, you didn't  _walk_  all the way here, did you?"

Lily blinked at the sudden concern in James's tone. "No, of course not. My parents drove me here. I'm having a sleepover with Hermione."

James nodded slowly. "Alright. See you later then, Evans." He smiled and turned to the door, walking outside into the setting sun. The rest of the marauders filed out with their goodbyes, and the door closed behind them.

"I wonder why they couldn't just have their sleepover here," Lily noted thoughtfully.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe Remus's house is more interesting."

Lily smiled slyly. "You didn't tell them I was coming, did you?"

Hermione shook her head, suppressing a smile. "They didn't ask."

"Cheeky. Let's go upstairs."

"Do you want some dinner? The house-elves would be pleased to make you something."

"You—you have house-elves?"

Hermione turned slightly pink. "Well, not me really, but…the Potters do. I was surprised too when I came here…erm, they're really very friendly, though, if you want to stop by the kitchens?"

"Okay," Lily beamed. "I've never met one in person before."

"They're amazing," Hermione and Lily walked down to where the kitchens were, and saw a dozen little house-elves scrubbing several large pots and pans vigorously.

"Miss Hermione!" they squeaked in unison.

"She brings a friend!"

"Everyone, this is my good friend Lily Evans," Hermione introduced, and Lily waved cheerfully.

"It's nice to meet you all. Hermione was just telling me how amazing you are."

There was a loud uproar, which was strange because it looked as if all the house-elves were about to faint. They gathered around Hermione and Lily and asked if they wanted more supper, and promptly ignored any refusal and made them a hot meal anyway. Hermione and Lily left the kitchens with arms full of food, and headed up the stairs.

"They're nothing yet exactly like what I imagined," said Lily breathlessly, placing the plates of food onto Hermione's desk. "It makes you wonder, doesn't it though? Like…I dunno, do some have wages for their work?"

"Technically they're not allowed to have wages, and if you try to give them any then it's considered the highest mark of insult to the house-elves," Hermione replied sadly. "You know, when I was at my other school, and I learned about house-elves, I made an organization to try to promote equal rights and welfare for them." She smiled sheepishly. "It didn't work out the way I thought it would…but I still think there is a lot of work to be done. Not just for them, but for all magical creatures. After the years I've had, with the professors I've had," her mind flitted to Umbridge, and she boiled internally with anger, "I know it's something I'd like to focus on after school. If I get that far."

"What do you mean, 'if'? Of course you'll get that far," Lily said firmly, clasping Hermione's hand comfortingly. "I know these past few weeks haven't been very good, and after what happened last summer…" Lily trailed, her eyes brimming with emotion. She shook her head violently as a fiery spirit roared inside her, and she looked at Hermione with determination. "You'll be just fine, Hermione Granger. You're already top of your class—well nearly, anyway," Lily grinned at Hermione's scoff.

"Nearly? Who's the first, then?"

"Me, of course."

"Darling Lily, we know things have changed since I started at Hogwarts."

"Not  _that_  much."

Hermione laughed, and she felt lighter and happier than she had in a very long time. "Oh Lily," Hermione sighed quietly, a content smile still lingering on her lips. "You make me very happy."

"Do I?" Lily feigned disinterest but she could see the pleased smile tugging at her mouth.

"Yes. You really do," Hermione answered honestly. "You remind me a lot of my old girlfriends. They were brilliant. And you are too."

Lily tilted her head. "You don't talk about your old friends a lot."

"No?...I hadn't realized," Hermione replied faintly. She shifted uncomfortably and moved to sit on her bed, and Lily sat opposite her. She looked at Hermione patiently.

Hermione cleared her throat. "It's really not that interesting. I had two best friends at the start of my first year. Boys, very annoyingly lovable boys. One of them was Ron, and I became friends with his younger sister Ginny…it was fun," Hermione smiled at the memories that began resurfacing. "I spent a lot of time with her. She had red hair like you too, coincidentally! There was also Lavender, and Parvati…they were a little gossipy, but who isn't at that age? I disliked them sometimes for that, but despite it all they were still loyal friends…and most of all, good people." Hermione looked away wistfully, remembering the foolish anger she'd felt towards Lavender just before the Time-Turner had pulled her into the seventies. How she would give anything to see even her again. "That's all that matters in the end."

"It sounds like you surrounded yourself by very good people," Lily noted with a soft smile. "As for me, I have Alice and Amelia, of course. They're probably the only two I've stayed close friends with since starting here. We did a lot of late night studying and talking for hours…" Lily grinned as she thought about it. "They're so much fun. It reminds me sometimes of me and Petunia when we were children."

"Petunia?"

Lily's eyes grew wide. "I never told you?" Hermione shook her head unsurely. "I have an older sister, Petunia."

"No, I don't think you did," Hermione said vaguely, although already about her. "Do you two not get along anymore?"

Lily snorted. "She can barely stand to look at me." A touch of sadness was in her voice, but she hardened herself and shrugged. "It's been this way for years, though. It's probably why I forgot to mention her to you; we just don't get along like we used to. She's a muggle, you know? I think that's why she resents me…"

"For not being a witch?"

"Sort of? If she was given the chance to go to Hogwarts right now, I doubt she would. Every time she mentions me and my schoolmates, she calls us freaks."

Hermione's mouth tightened into a thin line. She knew Harry's family was as unsupportive as it could get during his childhood, but seeing this insight first hand…knowing what Harry's aunt had been like even before he was born…he really hadn't stood a chance.

"And what about your parents?" Hermione inquired.

At this, Lily brightened instantly. "Merlin, I love them. They're muggles, so they get a kick out of everything I tell them about my studies and school life."

"Mine did too!" Hermione said excitedly. "My parents were dentists, and they couldn't wrap their heads around the idea that a few spells could replace their line of work in the Wizarding world."

"Mine are accountants, and I showed them my Arithmancy book in my third year and I swear my mum almost fainted. She was so excited."

"That's really interesting," Hermione mused, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "Do you know how fascinating it would be if a muggle mixed modern knowledge with witchcraft? You and I already know how to since we grew up in muggle homes, but imagine! What if a muggle took their financial knowledge and use Arithmancy principles? What if a doctor interwove modern medicine and science with magic?"

"Hermione, that's basically what the wizarding world already does," Lily replied with a humorous smile.

"I know I know, but—well, I dunno where I'm getting at. But it's really cool that your parents are actively interested in magic to the extent of reading your textbooks…doesn't that just mean that not all muggles would react horrifically if they found out about magic?"

"I suppose it would," Lily nodded slowly. "You know, you should really come and meet them. They'd love to see you, especially if you speak to them about this stuff."

"They're picking you up tomorrow morning, right?" Hermione asked. "Maybe I could pop by and say hello?"

"Absolutely. And then later you're coming to my house."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, alright, don't worry. I'll come to your house this summer."

"Good. Now let's dig in already, shall we?"

**xxx**

Hermione did not know at what time James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius returned home, but she knew they did once she woke up the next morning.

Lily was nowhere in sight. Hermione yawned and stumbled out of bed, uncaring of the status of her hair (which currently closely resembled pygmypuff fur), and glanced across the hallway. Both Sirius and James's doors were ajar, and from the lack of noise and frequent snoring, she knew they were empty.

Padding down the stairs, Hermione rubbed her eyes as she entered the living room. Peter was the only one sitting on a sofa, a book in hand.

"Good morning, Peter," Hermione greeted.

Peter glanced up and smiled. "Morning, Hermione!"

"Had a nice, er, night?"

Peter nodded vigorously. "Very fun. Tiring, but fun."

"Uh huh. Could you tell me where everyone else is?"

"Remus is still upstairs sleeping…oh and the Potters haven't come down yet, and the rest are…in the kitchens."

Hermione frowned. "What? Why?"

"James and Lily are—well, and Sirius is there to witness it, and I thought it better if I stayed here, too crowded in there—"

"You're not making any sense."

Peter gave a sheepish look. "I think it's best if you saw it for yourself."

Hermione blinked, then rounded towards the kitchens. Opening the doors, she let out a small scream.

James was desperately trying to put out a very tall tower of flames using the lid of a pot, while house-elves ran wildly around him, wailing and shouting. Lily had her head in her hands as if consumed by a massive migraine, and Sirius was leaning against the kitchen wall, observing with a contented smile.

"What the hell is going on in here!" Hermione shrieked.

"Master James won't let us help!" a house-elf cried, wringing her hands desperately. "He is making a mess in our kitchens, miss! He won't let us help!"

Hermione marched towards James and yanked him away from the stove. "James for the love of  _god_  let these good elves put out the damned fire!"

Immediately three elves jumped up and extinguished the fire within seconds. What remained was a very large pan with a pile of ash inside.

"Can somebody explain this, please?"

Lily crossed her arms over her chest, her face edged with anger. "Potter here thought it a good idea to forcefully take the kitchen and used his privilege as a master of the house to command the house-elves not to interfere, no matter what disaster falls to the kitchen."

"I was giving them a small break," James added hastily, wiping his forehead and leaving a trail of char across his skin. His glasses were askew and his hair more wild and untamed than she'd ever seen it before. "I just wanted to try my hand at cooking, is all."

"Is all? Is that really the only reason?" Hermione prompted, eyeing him questioningly.

James stiffened. "Yes."

Lily rolled her eyes. "I'm going back to the living room." She looked at the house-elves kindly. "I'm sorry about all this."

The moment she was gone, James cursed and raked both hands into his hair.

Hermione shook her head. "Seriously? You had to do this today?"

"I wasn't—I swear I wasn't trying to be smart," James said dully. "I…" he sighed. "I'm gonna head back upstairs. Sorry 'bout the mess," he mumbled, earning him several gentle words from the house-elves.

Sirius and Hermione were left in the kitchen. Sirius moved away from the wall and stretched his arms above his head. "Before you start," Sirius began, "the fire only started seconds before you came in. Otherwise, it was a controlled chaos."

"Nice of you to just stand there."

"I had to make sure I was preserving every second in my memory for when I get a pensieve," said Sirius innocently.

"You're all idiots."

By the time everyone was gathered together again, Remus was finally sitting sleepily on the sofa, and Lily was, surprisingly, sitting next to James and having a brief but civilized conversation with him. Sirius smirked and followed Hermione to breakfast.

Dorea was already seated at the table, a pile of letters in front of her. "You're in luck," she smiled. "Your O.W.L. results have come in."

Any cheer that was in the room drained instantly. Remus looked even more ill than he already was (which was saying a  _lot_ ); Peter let out a startled noise and brought his nails to his mouth nervously. James and Sirius had equally cool yet utterly terrified looks, and Lily was gripping the wooden chair to the table so hard her knuckles were turning white. One by one Dorea handed the letters out, and after a few tense moments, they all began tearing through them.

There were both shouts of excitement and groans. "Nearly all O's," James sighed in relief. "Sirius, let me see…blimey, we have the same scores!"

"I told you there was no need to study," Sirius shrugged boredly.

"This is awful," Remus said in a dull voice. James walked to stand next to him and peered at the piece of parchment in Remus's hands.

"You have one more Outstanding than us, Remus."

"I missed  _two_ ," he moaned, shoving the letter back into its envelope. "Mum will be furious."

James's expression faltered, and he clapped Remus's back encouragingly. "She's an idiot if she gets angry at those results. You did really well."

"Yeah, I got one less than both Sirius and James," Peter added helpfully. "How did you two do?"

Lily shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, I don't know. It's alright. I only got one E."

James's jaw dropped. "And the rest are O's?"

Lily smiled secretively.

"What about yours, Hermione?" asked Sirius.

Hermione looked down at her own paper. "Straight O's," she said in disbelief. "But…last time I…" Clamping her mouth shut, Hermione stared at the small 'O' printed next to  _Defense Against the Dark Arts_. What had changed? Did she really learn more since then? It felt wrong, somehow…like she had a one-up on everything…but was that really her fault? This was the way it had to be, wasn't it?

And yet, despite having taken these exams already, Hermione swelled with unbidden pride at having achieved the goal she had wanted when she was a proper fifth year.

"There's another letter for you, Hermione," Dorea handed it to her after pecking her brow and congratulating her. Seeing Severus's name, she immediately ripped it open.

_Initiation in two days at the Malfoy Manor. Anything I should know?_

Malfoy Manor? Hermione bit her lip in concentration. What could she possible know…?

Oh.  _Oh_.

"Excuse me," she muttered hastily and quickly ran to the staircase. Running to her desk, she grabbed a quill and parchment and began to write furiously.

_Try to find a plain black diary. The words 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' is written in gold on the front. Not sure where in his house it could be._

_Burn this letter._

She sealed the envelope and picked up her wand with unsteady fingers. She was of age. She knew she was, her body was seventeen no matter what time turner she used. Breathing in deeply and gripping her wand firmly, Hermione waved the tip at the letter and whispered a concealing charm.

She paused. Gazing outside the window nervously, she waited for an owl to swoop in and drop a howler on her desk, claiming she broke underage wizarding law.

But no owl came. Hermione waited several minutes, until she was certain that no post from the Ministry would be arriving for her. A victorious smile graced her lips. Finally, she could be free of the fear of performing underage magic!

Tying the letter to her owl, Hermione watched it launch into the air and soar through the cloudy sky. If all went well, another horcrux would be in her possession by the end of the week.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Now before I hear the angry accusations, I will say that this sort of proves my repeated stance that I'm never abandoning this fic. An update! 
> 
> Sorry for the ridiculous wait, there really is no excuse except school and my muse, both which have been rectified. I've successfully completed my 3rd year of college! Remember at the start of this fanfic when I was about to enter it? Ah, sentiment.
> 
> This chapter is the longest yet I think, and there's more to come this summer. The goal is to have Sands of Destiny finished completely by August, because honestly it's about time I updated regularly and finally complete this fic. 
> 
> Thank you to ALL of your reviews and support and kindness! I have tried and failed to respond to everyone's reviews on the last chapter, but I will still continue to try. The response has been overwhelming, I don't think I quite deserve it. But thank you for being amazing, and there is no fandom as amazing as Harry Potter's, and the amount of love this ship has gotten in my fic is...unbelievable. I love you all and hope you all have wonderful summer.
> 
> As for the story: expect horcrux things. Expect it all the time.
> 
> Lastly, a massive Thank You to my amazing friend Hinatas for beta'ing this chapter for me! Without her, I don't think this chapter would have been tolerable. I owe her so much.
> 
> Until chapter 15! xx


	15. The Diary

**Chapter 15**

_The Diary_

Severus Snape was many things, and coward was once one of them.

Water dripped from the ends of his hair to his bare shoulders as he stared at his wardrobe. It was sparse with dust collecting at the bottom, the wood chipping dangerously along the surface. His fingers brushed across the fabrics and frowned at the cheap, patched texture. Most of these didn't originally belong to him, and some of them he had tried to mend himself with no luck. But it would have to do.

Severus wasn't brave. He wasn't memorable. He disliked most things and liked even less people; but somehow, in just one year, he had changed—and suddenly Severus was starting to be some of those things.

Snatching the darkest shirt and coat he could find, he shrugged them on and stared down at himself. They were shabby, but they would do. There were no mirrors in his room and he didn't care enough to go to the bathroom and see for himself.

He glanced at the clock. Still time.

Severus retreated to his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Everything was so detestable—the walls, the cupboard, the bed, the air. It wasn't  _filthy_ , but it was as close as it could get to it. It was why nobody knew (except Lily, of course) where he lived or why he never allowed any friends—the few he had—to come over during the holidays. No one needed to see this part of his life.

Severus looked at his nightstand and saw the rolled piece of parchment that'd been delivered to him yesterday. Hermione had instructed him to burn it, and Severus had full intentions to—just not yet. His eyes roved over the small, neat handwriting as he delicately picked it up.

What was it about her that made him befriend her so quickly? At first he thought it was because of Lily—she was the one who had introduced them on their first day of fifth year, after all. But Lily had introduced him to her all her other friends, and Severus just barely tolerated them (and learned the hard way not to refer to them as 'those air-headed ninnies' whilst in Lily's company). This was different.  _She_ was different. And though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was glad of it.

His heart lurched when he heard a loud thud and muffled shouting downstairs, and his eyes narrowed at the instinctual anxiety that filled him whenever his parents argued. Normally this would be the part where Severus would be filled instantly with repressed rage, but the feeling didn't come. After all these years, all that remained in him was disquiet.

His mother was shouting in earnest now, and Severus sighed. Crushing the parchment tightly in his fist, Severus sauntered to the bathroom and pulled out a muggle lighter his father had given him for Christmas. Holding the flame against the edge of the parchment, he dropped it into the rubbish bin and watched as the orange tendrils of smoke curled and bent around the paper, until all that remained was a pile of ash.

He walked down the stairs quickly and headed to the door. "And where the hell do you think you're going?" he heard his father sneer. Severus did not bother glancing behind him.

"Somewhere where your stupidity can't touch me," he muttered.

A hand gripped his shoulder and whirled him around, forcing Severus to look at him. "Give me any more cheek and you'll have a red one for the rest of your holiday."

"Leave him alone, Tobias," Severus's mother pulled Snape away from his father. She looked him up and down to make sure he wasn't hurt. "Off you go."

Severus pressed his lips together and fought off the disappointment when his mother turned away from him and went into the kitchen. Not wanting to be further berated by his father, Severus squashed down any lingering disappointment and left the house.

Spinner's End was a small street in Cokeworth, and coincidentally it was a two minute walk to Lily Evans's house from his. It was how they met each other, after all, but as he walked past the muggle residence today, he didn't feel the usual rush of warmth; instead he felt cold, as if a bucket of ice had been dumped down his head. They were more or less on speaking terms now, but he…did not know how she would react once she found out he'd gone and joined the Death Eaters. He was certain he did not  _want_  to know.

Could he really pull this off? Could he really, earnestly, fool a deadly organization into believing he was on their side? He'd meant every word when he told Hermione he would join the Death Eaters to help her bring down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but the closer he came to upholding that decision, the less certain he was that he was truly capable of it. And now, with Regulus relying on his help as well…

Severus shook his head. There was no room for second thoughts.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stopped at the bus station and began his journey to London.

**xxx**

"James, you really don't have to  _escort_  me," said Hermione, but knew it was to deaf ears. James was practically bouncing with every step, smiling cheerfully at any muggle that would look in his direction.

"Well actually I  _do_. You heard Mum and Dad—there's no way you're walking all the way to Cokeworth of all places by yourself."

"I wasn't planning on walking," said Hermione, exasperated. "I would've taken a bus. But then you walked right past it and rambled off about healthy walks and quidditch."

"I don't want to lose my shape during the summer months," James said darkly, then continued to stare at the road ahead. Hermione sighed, knowing a losing argument when she saw one.

In truth, Hermione did not mind very much that James was accompanying her to Lily's house. What did concern her was what James planned on doing once they arrived. "So, are you going to walk all the way back home once we get there, then?"

"'Course."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You do realize that  _no one_  is safe alone, right? It's not just a sexist forethought—yes, I said it, don't look so surprised—your mum and dad will be equally angry with you when they see you've walked home from Cokeworth by yourself."

James shrugged. "Then I'll try the muggle bus system. Do you have some coins on you by chance?"

"Yes, I do…"

"Then we're set!" James flashed her a good-natured smile. At her troubled expression, he looped his arm around her gently. "It's alright, Hermione. Really."

Hermione smiled slightly, if not a little fretfully. Even without the worry of James's safety, there was something else entirely that was eating her mind…and it partly involved her trip to Lily's house.

When she promised Lily that she would come over to her house this summer, she knew she would honor it. And at Lily's enthusiastic owl that her sister was leaving for the weekend for a summer academic competition in the country, Hermione sought her chance.

Was it coincidence that she was going to the same town Severus lived in? On the day he was to be initiated? Hermione liked to think so.

But Hermione liking anything never changed the truth.

Because the truth was, Hermione was terrified. This wasn't just her anymore. She was not alone anymore, finding horcruxes by herself and keeping her promise to end Voldemort before he could destroy everyone she loved. She involved others. Severus willingly involved himself, to the point of joining the Death Eaters and finding Tom Riddle's Diary, if he could.

What was terrifying her most was the prospect of their plan completely falling through. Voldemort did not achieve the title 'most dangerous wizard of all time' without reason. Voldemort in the flesh was much more dangerous than any horcrux she'd pick up. Voldemort living, breathing, and watching during the initiation…Voldemort burning the tattoo in Severus and Regulus's forearms permanently…Voldemort penetrating their minds to ensure absolute loyalty….

It was a dangerous game to play. Hermione was not ready. But Hermione did not believe anyone could ever be ready to face grievous uncertainty—to face  _death_. Hermione could not imagine how strong a wizard would have to be to willingly accept his fate. But, prepared or not, she had to go forward. There really was no going back anymore.

"Here we are," said Hermione, stopping in front of a modest brick house. The houses around them were identical and in neat little rows that reminded Hermione of Harry's description of Privet Drive.

"Ah," said James, his eyes transfixed on the brick home. He shifted his weight, scratching the back of his ears. He cleared his throat. "Well, I guess I'll go then."

He whirled around so quickly that Hermione almost didn't catch his words. "James!" She grabbed a fistful of shirt before he could disappear, and he jerked to a stop. "What are you doing? You can't leave now!"

"You don't need me any further than this," he replied nonchalantly, but behind the calm exterior she could see he felt differently.

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. "Let's just walk to the door. Then you can leave. Okay?"

Hermione was not entirely sure why she was pushing for him to stay a few minutes longer, but her grip remained firm. James hesitated, then looked back at the house. Reluctantly, he nodded.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, James sauntered behind Hermione as they walked up the front steps to Lily's home. She rang the bell once, and waited.

The door swung open and Lily was suddenly before her, smiling brilliantly and taking a step back to let Hermione inside. "I was starting to think you wouldn't make it."

"We chose to walk," Hermione informed with a sheepish grin.

"Why don't you ask for a house phone? They're dead useful, and much faster than owls."

"Merlin, I wish we could have a phone in the house," Hermione sighed wistfully. "That and a tele."

"Luckily I have both those things," Lily grinned, until her eyes fell on the boy standing quietly on her doorstep. "Potter?"

James looked up quickly and cleared his throat. "Erm," he said lamely. "I was just, er, dropping Hermione. Off. Dropping her off. And she is dropped now. So…I'll be going."

"Hang on," said Lily quickly. "This is actually what I was going to tell you about anyway with the phone and owl thing—as it turns out, my parents will be staying with Petunia overnight for the competition. So I don't have a ride home for you, Hermione. I'm so sorry," Lily looked at Hermione with a deeply apologetic look. "Honestly, I hate to tell these things last minute, but they literally just rang—"

"It's  _alright_ ," Hermione stopped the onslaught of self-depreciating apologies before they could go further. She glanced at James, who was looking between the two girls unsurely, like a fly caught in particularly troublesome web. Hermione's lips twitched into a smile. "Well, James, I suppose it's a good thing you walked me here anyway. If that's okay with you, Lily."

"Come again?" said James weakly, clearly not following the conversation; or if he was, his mind was far too befuddled to string words together coherently.

"You'll have to stay," Lily told him. Her forehead wrinkled as she looked James up and down, as if sizing up how much aspirin she will require for the next few hours.

If there was a way to look both terrified out of one's wits and pleased beyond measure, James was doing a marvelous impression of it. Dumbstruck and unmoving, James stared unfocusedly between Hermione and Lily. When Hermione cleared her throat, James finally snapped out of his reverie and blinked several times.

"May I come in?" he asked solemnly. Lily seemed surprised at the request, and nodded slowly.

"Obviously. You too, Hermione, come in," Lily stepped backward and turned around, leaving the door wide open for them to enter. James gestured for Hermione to go in first, and then closed the door quietly behind him.

The moment Lily was out of earshot, James gripped her upper arm and whispered in her ear, "I feel very very very  _very_  wrong being here right now."

"This wasn't your end goal, then?" Hermione asked innocently. James began to speak, but snapped his mouth shut before words could come out. The resulting wounded look made Hermione sigh. "Well, you'll have to stay regardless. Just…I dunno…don't be a prat and then maybe Lily won't kill until you've at least had dinner."

James nodded furiously and looked as if he were taking mental notes of Hermione's every word.

The living room was quaint and sparse, with a small television box set up in front of a sofa and armchair. James was immediately entranced by the box that shouted noises and moving pictures, shuffling towards it until his head was level to the screen, inspecting every pixelated square.

"What  _is_  this?" he breathed, intrigued.

"That would be the latest episode of Doctor Who," said Lily amusedly.

"More specifically, a television," Hermione added.

"This is the thing you were talking about getting a few days ago?" asked James. Hermione nodded. "What does it do?"

"It can tell you the news, the weather, music, and lots of programs on the front screen there at the click of some buttons," Lily explained. She had a strange smile playing on her lips, as if suppressing the urge to grin at James's genuine curiosity. James looked at the box with wonder.

"And these people can talk in it? Like moving pictures, but with voice?"

Both Lily and Hermione nodded. Hermione's eyes slid to Lily's, and they both smiled knowingly. James slowly backed away from the television, his eyes still transfixed on the screen.

"Uh huh. Well, this is very interesting, marvelous…"

After a few more moments of marveling, Lily showed James and Hermione the rest of her house (they had to pause several times for James as he inspected the more elaborate muggle contraptions), until finally retiring in the parlor.

"I had hoped you would get to see my parents at least," said Lily with a sigh. "It was kind of the whole point. Though it's nice to have Petunia away."

Hermione leaned back against the sofa and shrugged slightly. "I had the chance to see them when they came to pick you up from our house the other day. They seemed very nice."

"Sorry, but who's Petunia?" asked James confusedly.

Lily glanced at him oddly. "My older sister."

James raised a brow in surprise. "I've never heard of her," he said mildly.

"There's nothing really to say about her," Lily said dismissively, and a little too quickly not to be noticed. James tilted his head with a knowing look.

"You don't get along with her."

" _She_ doesn't get along with me," Lily corrected sharply. "I have nothing to do with it. I'd happily talk to her more if she wouldn't—" Lily stopped abruptly, casting a wary eye at James. "What do you care, anyway? It has nothing to do with you."

"Ah, no, it doesn't," James conceded, settling more in the sofa as his hand instinctively went up to tangle in his hair. "I apologize at my attempt of small talk."

Lily pursed her lips and looked away, traces of embarrassment and resignation in her demeanor. Hermione sighed. While it was absolutely amazing to see her best friend's parents at their budding stages of friendship, it was equally exhausting.

Hermione's gaze traveled idly to the open window, and promptly froze. Across the parlor's window and hidden behind a curtain of slick, black hair, walked Severus Snape with his head bent down. Her heart jumped in her throat when he lifted his head briefly, as if it was something he instinctually did every time he passed by Lily's house, and locked eyes with Hermione. He stumbled slightly as his eyes went wide in shock, not anticipating to see Hermione at Lily's home—or anywhere near  _his_ for that matter.

"I'm going to get some air, do you mind?" Hermione jumped to her feet, surprising Lily and James.

"Do you want me to come with you?" asked James. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"I'll be fine. I just need to clear my head a bit, get some fresh air. I'll be back in a minute."

"Yes, of course…" Lily trailed in confusion, watching the brown-haired Gryffindor briskly walk out of the parlor and out of sight.

Hermione's heart was pounding with dread and anticipation as she quietly slipped out of the front door and ran across the lawn. Severus was no longer in sight. She quickly rounded the corner of the next street, her eyes glancing around searchingly until she felt a hand wrap around her wrist and yank her into the shadows.

"What are you doing here?" Severus hissed, standing very close to her.

"I'm—Lily, she invited me," said Hermione breathlessly. Her gaze drifted to his left arm, staring at the long black sleeve of his coat piercingly. "Did you—did they—?" she did not finish, but Severus swallowed and nodded once.

"It's okay, Hermione," Severus reassured softly, his fingers brushing against her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I'm…alright."

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

"For what?"

"I don't know. I feel like I should be apologizing about this. It's because of me that—"

Severus cut her off. "If you still think this is all for you, you've let this get to your head too much," said Severus slowly. "At the end of the day, this was my choice. And it was Regulus's. Putting the blame on yourself solves very little."

Hermione bit her lip. "How's your forearm?"

Severus stiffened at the unexpected question. "You know about that?"

Hermione nodded. Severus looked down.

"It…stings."

"Liar," Hermione shot back, shaking her head as she glanced at his arm again. "It hurts a lot. I can tell."

"It's manageable," Severus replied smoothly. "And I would think you'd be more interested in what I've got with me than the state of my arm."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"You don't—you don't mean—?"

Severus reached into the folds of his clothes and pulled out a black, aged diary with golden lettering written on the front.

Hermione stepped back, looking up at Severus in awe. "How did you find it?"

"You asked me to look for it, and I did."

"Yes I know, but I didn't think you'd find it so quickly! Did they see you? Where was this? This, oh Merlin…but this is very…this is good…."

Severus held out the book. With trembling fingers, Hermione willed herself to push aside the familiar fear of the horcrux and hold it.

She could feel it immediately, the slight thrumming of the leather, the heavy weight against her skin…it felt as if it could burn through her, and it would only be a matter of time before the whispers and the headaches would begin—

"We have to destroy this," Hermione finally said. "Quickly." She looked at Severus seriously. "I should go back now, they're probably worrying. You're going to tell me everything that happened, Sev. Wait for my owl."

She looked down again at the diary hesitantly.

"Keep it," Severus said quietly. "It'll be safer with you."

He did not mention the strange sensation that took hold of him the moment he held the diary in his hands, nor the sudden relief he felt once Hermione had taken the wretched thing from him. No, he did not think he could handle keeping the diary. He felt terribly guilty at shoving it to Hermione knowing what it would do to her.

_What it has already done to her_ , a voice reminded him, and it took a great amount of self-control not to shudder.

"I'll see you later," said Hermione, and Severus nodded slowly. She quickly sprinted towards the corner of the street and disappeared from sight. After a few moments Severus stepped out of the shadows and slowly began to walk.

His house was silent upon entering. Severus walked up the staircase and into his room, locking the door behind him. His movements began to quicken as he shrugged off the coat and the shirt, wincing in pain as the fabric brushed against the tender flesh of his forearm. His actions grew quicker and more desperate, shucking off his garments until all that remained were his briefs. The white hot pain from the Dark Mark, now engraved under his skin, flared suddenly as he stepped into the bathroom. His frame shook as he lifted his gaze to stare at his reflection.

What he saw shocked him. It was still  _him_ ; still slick, shabby Severus, tall and gangly with awkwardly hunched shoulders and dark circles under his weary eyes, now branded with a slithering skull and snake—it was him, but something had changed. The boy staring back at him no longer had gaunt, haunted eyes. He was determined. He seemed…free.

Severus's lips twitched into a smile, and the pain in his forearm began to fade.

But where Severus's bravery began to shine, Hermione's nervous disposition returned with the heavy weight of a horcrux under her arm. She entered Lily's house as quietly as she could and immediately headed towards her purse, currently sitting idly by the door. Stuffing the diary quickly inside, Hermione made for the parlor.

Her steps slowed as she approached the doorway. From a distance she could hear them—even the dimmest mountain troll would notice the racket—and it wasn't until James and Lily came into view that Hermione paused.

Arguing, they were always arguing…but something about it this time made Hermione stop. They were acting no differently than they would in front of everybody else, and Lily certainly wasn't going easy on him no matter how many times James tried to charm her, but something was there. Something small, almost imperceptible, but _there_. And for now, it was enough.

**xxx**

In the weeks that passed since the marauders discovered Hermione's plans to overthrow the Death Eaters, something unusual caught Hermione's attention (though upon further inspection, it wasn't very unusual). Sometimes—not often, but sometimes—while Hermione would be reading a book or sitting in the living room, she would catch James looking at her curiously. He'd immediately look elsewhere and ruffle up his hair the moment Hermione would catch his eye, pretending for all the world that nothing had happened.

Though James's strange behavior didn't truly alarm her—especially considering he was always this strange and comical—Sirius's behavior did. It was nothing like how he would usually act around her, and that was saying something considering she'd seen nearly all facets of his temperament; quiet, moody, raucous, accusing, cheerful…but he was none of these during these times. He would look at her sometimes as if wanting to say something, the words just on the tip of his tongue. He would gaze at her distantly as his mouth parted, but every time he would close it and clear his throat, smiling sheepishly and moving on.

Hermione knew something was on his mind, and he desperately wanted to ask her a question. She was certain  _all_  the marauders wanted to ask her several questions, but none of them plucked up the courage to do it.

The tenth time she caught Sirius looking at her strangely with that questioning look, Hermione was in the backyard with a large volume of  _Young Witches Who Rose To Power_  on her lap. Slamming it shut, Hermione turned to Sirius and scowled.

" _What_  is it, Sirius?" she snapped.

Sirius jumped slightly, bewildered and stammering, "N-nothing, just looking at this magnificent garden around us—"

"Oh come off it. I know you've been wanting to say something for weeks, don't deny it. You and James are terrible at concealment."

Sirius looked like he was going to argue, but wisely stopped at Hermione's glare. "Yes, we're all curious," he ceded reluctantly. "But what  _they're_ curious about, you'll have to ask them yourself. I'm not entirely sure."

"What is it that  _you_  want to ask me, then?" said Hermione.

Sirius glanced down, gathering his thoughts. Inhaling deeply, he looked back up and the intensity in his grey eyes startled her.

"You told us that you were planning on stopping the Death Eaters. It's how you were able to help Reggie when he insisted he couldn't stop from joining them."

"Yes…?" Hermione frowned.

"I want—I think—I meant what I said then, that if we don't stop fighting back now, it will only get worse. Every day people are going missing, Dark Mark or not. I think what you're doing—it's the right thing to do."

He smiled a little, and Hermione smiled hesitantly back. She felt relief at his words, for she hadn't been expecting this to be what Sirius wanted to talk to her about. She'd been almost afraid that Sirius would go back to distrusting her like he had last year, but it didn't seem like that would happen again anymore. He was…growing.

"You don't know how happy that makes me, Sirius," Hermione said honestly. Sirius shifted his hand as if making to grasp hers, but he glanced at her unsurely and let his hand drop, and instead smiled encouragingly.

"James I'm certain still thinks you're barking, but I know he knows you're doing what you think is right," said Sirius with a sigh. "Peter and Remus are worried. I think they're planning an intervention, to be honest."

"No," Hermione groaned, and put the book down onto the grass so she could prop her elbows on her knees and drop her head in her hands. "This is exactly why I held off telling anybody about this."

"Would you rather they didn't care at all?" asked Sirius. "We're your friends. It's natural for us to worry for your safety."

Hermione bit her lip guiltily. "You're right," she said. "They're doing what any friend would do. You're all doing so much more than any normal friend would do."

"That's because we take everything to much higher levels," Sirius chuckled. "Blimey, we became Animagi just so Remus wouldn't feel alone anymore."

Hermione smiled softly. "You love with all your heart, all four of you. You're more like brothers than friends. You would do anything for each other."

"And you're part of that family now," said Sirius quietly. "Which is why I have to ask you something."

Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"This thing—this struggle against Voldemort and his followers—it's not just yours anymore. My brother is involved, and I can't just sit in the sidelines and hope he doesn't get killed someday. I want to be a part of this, Hermione. This is more than you or me, this is something bigger than anything we've faced before."

Hermione looked at him disbelievingly, her mouth parted but no sound coming out. Shaking her head, Hermione managed, "You want to help? To join me?"

"Yes," said Sirius firmly.

Her heart was racing. "And what about James? And Remus, and Peter—"

"I can't tell you what they're thinking. I only know what I want, and that's making sure my brother doesn't die at the hands of a sodding Death Eater. Or worse—doing something he would never forgive himself for."

"I…I don't know what to say," said Hermione weakly. "I'm really happy you feel this way, don't get me wrong. But I told you before that I can't…I can't tell you everything of what I'm doing just yet."

"Why not?" Sirius pressed, his eyes looking through hers searchingly. "You're carrying so many secrets, and for what? Why won't you let someone help you?"

"To keep you safe!" Hermione exclaimed, panic stricken. Against rationality, Hermione was shutting down the idea of telling him everything, she wasn't ready, no, she wasn't ready at all for this. "Don't you remember what they did to my parents? Have you forgotten why the Potters adopted me? This is dangerous, and I only told you because Regulus's life was at risk and I had to help him!"

"So were you never planning to tell anyone else?" said Sirius in disbelief.

"I don't know," said Hermione truthfully. "Sirius, I'm not saying you shouldn't try to help. I just don't know how much I can tell you of what I'm doing just yet. I  _want_ you to do what you believe is right too."

Sirius was scowling and looked away. Hermione's insides turned over as she bit her lip. Was she being too stubborn? Was it…was it finally approaching the time where she would have to tell him?

"I will tell you everything," Hermione said quietly. Sirius looked up in surprise. "But not today. Not for a while. You have to respect that, Sirius, or this will never work."

Sirius looked down at his hands once more as they fiddled together idly. "As long as I can help," he replied quietly. "As long as I can keep the people I care about safe. Your secrets are not mine to pry for, anymore." He gazed at her gently. "Just let me fight against those bastards with you."

The honesty and passion in his words took Hermione aback. This conversation had happened between them so many times, and each had ended with Sirius furious at Hermione for steadfastly keeping her secrets well-guarded. It was different now.  _They_ were different now, and Hermione finally reached between them and firmly gripped his hand.

"Of course."

Sirius grinned. "Excellent. Quick question, though, because this has been on my mind for weeks—what exactly is your strategy? You don't have to go into detail, but you must have some sort of plan, surely."

A slow smile spread across Hermione's lips. "Have you ever heard of the muggle story of the Trojan Horse?"

**xxx**

The opportunity never arose for Hermione to leave the house again for the rest of the summer—at least, not by herself. So she went to the last resort.

The Potters, Sirius, and Hermione took the summerly trip to Diagon Alley in late August to prepare for their new school year (" _No_ , James, you cannot have the Chudley Cannons broom set"), and spent the last week of the summer holidays drinking ice cold pumpkin juice in the Potters' backyard while watching James and Sirius attempt to knock each other off their brooms using disgruntled garden gnomes (they were supposed to be de-gnoming the garden but quickly found a much more amusing way to pass the time). It was the night before the first day back to Hogwarts that the plan would proceed.

Hermione waited until well past midnight, when even Sirius's lamp light extinguished. The house was silent save for James's loud snores that could be heard down the hallway (he rarely kept his door closed). Quietly, Hermione rolled out of bed and crouched down.

The trunk was beneath her bed exactly the way she left it last. And even though the book was locked and sealed away tightly inside, charm after charm placed on it to make sure it was hidden, she could feel it. She could feel its blasted heartbeat. She could hear its soul, cold and small though it was, as it whispered unintelligible things in her consciousness. It was just like last time.

One would think that, having already dealt with one of Voldemort's horcruxes in the past, Hermione would be able to handle having another one in her proximity much more calmly and resolutely; but in reality, it was much worse. Hermione didn't think it was  _possible_ to be worse, but the feeling—the heavy, burdened feeling pushing against her heart, the familiar headache that only increased as the hours ticked by—was more oppressive and damaging than ever before.

And like before, every night Hermione would sleep with the trunk under her bed and feel the horcrux reverberating against her heart like a steady rhythm of drums.

It was not silent tonight either. Hermione bit her lip as she raised her wand with trembling fingers. Breathing deeply and shaking off her nerves, she began to mutter incantations under her breath as one by one, the charms on the trunk were removed.

When the last charm was lifted, Hermione sat still, frozen, as if waiting for the horcrux to spring to life and transform into Lord Voldemort himself. No such thing happened. Hermione released her breath and slowly unlocked the trunk. Digging to the bottom, her fingers grazed against the leather of the book and grabbed hold of it.

She barely looked at the diary as she stuffed it inside her purse. Rising from her haunches, Hermione stuffed her wand in her pocket and went to her bedroom window. Peering down, she squinted hard until her eyes caught the shadowy figure standing beneath her window. Nodding affirmatively, Hermione stole out of her room.

The hallway was dim and the staircase pitch black, but she feared to use a quick  _lumos_  in case it woke anyone up. Charming the stairs so they wouldn't creak, Hermione padded softly down and made for the front door, not noticing that faint lamplight was coming from the dining room.

Just as her fingers brushed the doorknob, she heard, "Hermione?"

Startled with fright, Hermione spun around and raised her wand. Breathing rapidly, she stuttered, "S-Sirius? What are you doing awake?"

"Getting a glass of water," said Sirius slowly, his eyes following her wand to the purse hanging from her shoulder. "Are you going somewhere?"

_Shit_ , she cursed inwardly. Her mind came up with a dozen scenarios and explanations she could give, and none of them were promising. Sirius, however, was quicker to deduce.

"Does this have to do with…?" Again, Hermione seemed to have lost control of her voice. Guilty and speechless, Hermione winced. In a second Sirius was in front of her.

"Have you gone mad?" he whispered fiercely. "It's the middle of the night! It's not safe out, not even in the daylight! Bloody hell, woman—"

"Sirius this is  _important_ ," Hermione pleaded. "Please, you can't tell anyone, no one was supposed to be awake—"

"Clearly that was your plan," Sirius growled and shook his head. "What happened to keeping me informed? You could've bloody told me you had plans for whatever it is you're going to do!"

"Remember when I mentioned there's certain things I can't tell you just yet because they're so dangerous that knowing it would threaten all of our lives?" Hermione whispered harshly. "Yes, well, this is exactly one of those moments."

Sirius stared at her, fuming silently. "I don't like this. You shouldn't be out there alone."

"I won't be alone," said Hermione impatiently. "Now, please, I need to go before it's too late."

Sirius cursed. Stepping back from her, he waved at the door. "Go. I won't tell anyone, so you can stop looking at me that way. But if you're not here before sunup, there's nothing I can do for you."

"I'll be back earlier than that," Hermione promised. She stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm gratefully. "Thank you. I'll be back soon." Quickly and quietly, Hermione stepped out the front door and into the starry night.

The figure that had been beneath her bedroom window emerged silently from the shadows, and Hermione lifted a finger to her lips before he could let a word in. Raising her wand, she silently cast a Disillusionment charm on the both of them. Satisfied, Hermione ushered him along the sidewalk and walked quietly.

They reached a forest some distance away. Severus was the one who'd suggested it, and Hermione, having no other options or ideas where to do this, reluctantly agreed.

"Am I allowed to speak now?" Severus muttered under his breath as they trekked through the trees and shrubbery.

"Obviously," she said. "And surely there must be some other forest to do this, this is far too close to town," Hermione worried her lower lip, flinching whenever she heard a distance noise or a twig snap. The bag hanging against her hip was starting to weigh down heavily, until a thin layer of sweat collected on her forehead and she was struggling to catch her breath.

"It's the only option we have in the time restraint we're being dealt," replied Severus. "Is something the matter?"

"Sirius knows I'm here," Hermione blurted. Severus's mouth dropped open. "I didn't know he was still awake! It doesn't really matter anyway, he's asked to help us with all of this—"

"That idiot is going to help destroy horcruxes?" Severus snorted. "Don't tell me you told him."

"No, of course not," Hermione snapped. "He just wants to help any way he can, especially with Regulus joining the Death Eaters. You can't blame him for wanting to protect his family and friends."

"You'd be surprised."

Hermione scowled. "He's not going to say anything, so come off it already."

Severus glanced at her and furrowed his brows. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she said shortly.

"Hermione—"

"I said I'm fine, Severus," she glared at him sharply. Severus frowned, and it annoyed her even more. "That's all anyone's been asking me since I got to this decade. I'm fine. I can handle myself."

Severus looked at her strangely and lowered his eyes briefly to her purse. His stomach churned at what he was about to say, but it had to be done. "Let me hold it until we reach the clearing."

He did not wait for a response as he quickly slid the bag from her shoulder and looped it around his. Hermione's mouth parted in surprise and fury, but she stopped. Instantly a swooping calm overcame her and cleared her thoughts and she blinked, as if stepping out of a fog.

Severus nodded curtly and looked ahead.

"It's coming up," he said softly. "Just beyond that row of trees. We should be safe there."

"I don't know how I feel about this," Hermione said, looking nervous. "The last time I did this I almost destroyed the Shrieking Shack. We're surrounded by  _trees_  this time." Hermione shook her head. "This will be be very difficult."

"It will be difficult if you refuse to believe in your abilities," Severus replied smoothly. "You have the power to control it. You told me that the horcrux fights back and fills your head with nonsense, am I right?" Hermione nodded. "Control your mind. I taught you the beginnings of Occlumency,  _use it_. It still applies here."

Hermione frowned. "You're saying I can keep the horcrux out of my mind if I use Occlumency against it?"

Severus nodded slowly. "I didn't realize it until I gave the diary to you. It had been invading my mind as well, and at the time I didn't realize that the most basic form of defense could be used against it."

"Are you using Occlumency against it now?"

Severus nodded again.

"And it's okay?" Hermione said in disbelief.

"The heavy, weighted feeling persists, but my mind is clear and focused. I am keeping it away from my thoughts. By no means is this easy, but it beats the alternative."

Hermione shook her head incredulously. "I…that's brilliant. I don't know why I didn't think of it myself!"

"I daresay you were preoccupied at the time," said Severus delicately.

Hermione shrugged. It was too true.

"We're here," Severus said. They stepped into a clearing and walked to the center. Trees surrounded them like a large wooden cage, the crickets going silent as they trekked through the overgrown grass. They stopped once they reached the center of the clearing, and Hermione reluctantly turned to Severus.

Severus breathed in deeply and carefully removed the purse strap from his shoulder, then extended his hand towards her.

"It's best if you took off the wards yourself."

Hermione took the purse quickly. "Right, you're not of age yet. Right..." Hermione took out her wand and lifted it in the air, pointing the tip at the purse, and slowly began to lift the various protective spells on the small bag. She lowered her wand and glanced up at Severus. He was watching her passively, but from the slight shake in his frame, Hermione knew he was as terrified inside as she was.

She lifted her chin and looked at the bag. "Okay. Okay…" Pursing her lips together, Hermione began to reach inside before halting suddenly. "Take your wand out and be ready. The priority is the horcrux. Not me. Do you understand?"

Severus swallowed hard, his eyes wide, and nodded quickly. He was taken aback by her sudden serious tone, but he knew this was extremely important; because for Hermione, this was her purpose—her entire existence in this decade was dependent on her success in bringing Voldemort down. And he would not do her the dishonor of not taking her word seriously.

"You will be performing fiendfyre as well its counter spell, correct?" Severus asked suddenly.

"Yes," said Hermione.

"Would it not be wise for you to show me at least the basics of the counter spell? In case something happens to you, we should still have a way to put the fire out."

Severus did not expect for her to roll her eyes and groan.

"I can't," Hermione sighed. Severus raised an eyebrow, and Hermione shook her head. "It's not what you think. If I  _could_  tell you, I would. But Scabior made me swear an oath that I wasn't allowed to reveal how to do the spell to any living person—an idiotic oath, truth be told, but since I don't have the means of properly telling you right now, I have to make do."

"What do you mean 'properly tell me'? Hermione, you made an oath!" Severus exploded, his lips curling with distaste. "And with that bloody oaf of all people. What were you thinking?" Hermione gave him a withering glare.

"I was thinking that I needed to learn how to dispel fiendfyre to destroy a horcrux, and I did whatever it took to learn it!" Hermione said heatedly. "And yes, I can still properly tell you. I'm not a complete idiot—I made sure there was a way around the oath."

"Which you can't do right now."

"Yes."

"Bloody useful clause," Severus hissed, and Hermione threw the purse to the ground angrily.

"I'm trying my best, Snape. I don't need another person to remind me how poorly I'm doing my job!" Hermione shrieked.

Severus snapped his mouth shut. "I—" he started, looking confused. He stepped back warily, his eyes shifting until they landed on the purse lying forgotten on the forest floor. "I don't—I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry. I know you're trying very hard."

Hermione's nostrils flared as she struggled to calm her breathing. "Thank you," she said finally. Looking away, she regained her composure and shook her head. "This is so different from last time," she said quietly. "It's affecting both of us in proximity. It only used to affect me without even any contact. This…will be a harder horcrux to kill."

"Clearly my Occlumency plan wasn't as foolproof as I believed," said Severus dully, his grip loosening on his wand. "It already got to me."

"This is a power beyond your knowledge, Sev," Hermione said patiently, all anger now forgotten. "You can't expect to know how to handle it immediately. We'll keep trying. For now, let's just—let's do this."

Severus nodded tersely. Raising his wand at the ready again, he watched as Hermione slowly crouched down and opened the purse. Severus gritted his teeth; he could feel its darkness and malice and poison surrounding him already. Cold fear clamped around his heart. Hermione's hand disappeared inside the bag, and an irrational thought of large, pointed fangs sinking into her skin like the  _Monster Book of Monsters_  filled his mind, but he brushed the thought away.

The book was smooth and silent as she withdrew her hand from the purse. Hermione paused to glance up at Severus, and he nodded encouragingly. She bit her lip, and set the book on the grass and slung the purse over her shoulder.

"You can leave if you want," Hermione said suddenly, her eyes bright with fear. "Merlin, this is—this is far too dangerous, you shouldn't be involved in this mess. Just get out of these woods. You'll be safer that way."

"Are you mad?" said Severus incredulously. "I'm doing this of my own free will. I am not going to run away like a—like a bloody coward. I chose this, I  _chose_ to help. You're stuck with me."

His words were said with strong conviction, and it surprised the both of them. Eyes wide, Hermione nodded once and swallowed. Severus tightened his fingers around his wand. She rose up and pointed her wand steadily at the diary.

" _Aperio_."

The diary flipped open to a blank page in the middle, and the effect was immediate. Severus was nearly hurtled back from the impact; wind was spiraling around them and catching debris and twigs, their eyes streaming as a foul voice reverberated against the trees. The horcrux must have known they were intending to kill it—Severus had opened it himself after finding it in Malfoy Manor, and he did not encounter this whirlpool of death.

Severus couldn't catch most of what was going on—the roaring of the wind and the debris that was quickly leaving scratches on his face were distracting him—but when his eyes opened enough to see what was happening, what he saw he knew he would never forget.

Hermione was on her knees staring up at the middle of the wind tunnel. A figure was emerging from the diary in wispy, silvery swirls like a puff of smoke, materializing into an opaque young man. From behind Severus could not see his face, but knew that whoever he was, it was not the first time Hermione was seeing him. His words were soft and melodic, almost gentle, and it lulled wind around them like a trance. Suddenly Hermione's expression twisted in fury and she shouted something Severus could not catch. Immediately the wind amplified astronomically around them and it finally knocked Severus to the ground flat on his back. The soft voice was now roaring and hissing, the silvery figure of a boy now changing into something larger, shifting from image to image that Severus couldn't understand.

_Cast the spell_ , Severus pleaded in his mind. It was getting harder and harder to breathe as the air whipping around him stole his breath. He looked at Hermione and she seemed acres away even though she was just a few feet across from him. She was still and shaking, her eyes wide and frozen with fear.

Severus found the strength to lurch himself on his chest and crawled desperately towards her, fighting the horcrux's poisonous words and clearing the awful visions in his mind. He reached her side and grasped her fingers, but she did not look away from the horcrux's projections. Whatever this was, it was much more terrifying and damaging than the previous horcrux she'd destroyed.

"Her-mione," Severus choked out. Hermione did not even blink. "The spell…Hermione…the spell…."

She would not respond. Whatever part of her that had control over the horcrux was now gone. Closing his eyes, Severus used his last resort: launching his mind into hers. What he saw there…Severus wished he could look away, but instead he mentally skipped past the horrors being projected in her mind by the horcrux and searched for Hermione's consciousness.

_Don't listen to it,_ Severus ordered.  _It's wrong. What it's telling you is wrong. You must not give in!_ He could feel her uncertainty and her despair, and he could sense how desperately she was clinging to his words as if they were the last tether to sanity. He knew what he had to do.

Clearing his own turmoil and thoughts, Severus began to show her his own visions; their first Potions lesson together, the day they met in the Great Hall with Lily by his side; Sirius sitting across her during breakfast and making her turn pink with laughter, James slinging his arm around her and purposefully annoying her by giving an awful nickname, Lily studying with her at the library—and like a cool balm, Severus could feel Hermione's mind returning. The racing thoughts slowed to a calm stream, and slowly but surely, Hermione was coming back.

_I'm right here_ , he said softly.  _You can do this. He has no power over you. Destroy it._

He opened his eyes and returned to the spiraling wind and the horcrux fighting against them, but this time its shrieks were not of malice, but of fear. For Hermione was no longer on her knees; she was rising quickly and had her wand pointing at the diary. Without even a moment's pause, she reached down and violently shoved Severus behind her, then slashed her wand in the air.

Roaring flames ignited in front of them. The cutting wind disappeared instantly and Severus gasped for breath, slowly pulling himself to his feet. His wand was raised but shaking and he winced at the echoing screams of the horcrux.

An enormous flaming beast was circling before them, destroying everything in its path. He turned to Hermione. Her eyes were red but a deadly calm had come over her, and with grim determination she steadily lifted her wand at the flames. She turned her head suddenly towards him.

"Look away, Severus," she said. Severus's eyes widened and he looked away quickly. He heard the wand slash in the air and as quickly as the deadly flames came, they were gone.

Darkness surrounded them again as their eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light. Around them was devastation like no other; trees were fallen over and burned to ash, and the grass was charred and nearly barren. The damage was deadly and quick, but the closer they looked, it was clear that the fire only touched the trees closest to them and did not spread outside the clearing. Hermione had successfully prevented the fire from escalating dangerously.

Severus's eyes fell to the diary. It was burned and almost completely diminished, and the soul inside of it destroyed. A sense of relief washed over him as Hermione reached forward to pick it up and the diary turned to dust at her touch.

Hermione turned to him then, smiling tremulously. "Thank you," she said, and promptly fainted.

**xxx**

The strong smell of smoke and wood stirred Hermione from her sleep. She felt aches and pains everywhere, but it was no question that her head hurt most of all. It was pounding incessantly as if she'd had one too many firewhiskeys, and it did not seem likely that the pain would go away soon. Groaning, Hermione blearily opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was that it was still dark. The second was that a soft blanket was draped over her. Hermione's eyes traveled until they landed on the hunched figure of Severus Snape sitting near her, his hands folded and legs crossed, and for all intents and purposes fast asleep. She must have made some noise, for his eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," he said. "It's four o'clock. You've been asleep for three hours." Severus looked at her unsurely. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better," Hermione admitted. With some effort she managed to sit up, and pulled out a twig that was lodged in her hair. She grimaced.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Very much. I'll have to drink something for it once I get back home," Hermione winced and tenderly rubbed the back of her head. Severus merely watched her as she slowly gathered her bearings. Sighing, Hermione folded the blanket and stuffed it back in her bottomless purse, then faced Severus.

"There's two things I ought to say to you now," Hermione said quietly. Severus stared blankly. "First, I'm sorry."

"Again?"

"Yes. What happened was exactly what I knew it'd be. Completely out of control and utter chaos. I put you in grave danger."

"Let's not have that conversation again. I chose this too, remember?"

Hermione wanted to protest, but knew that for now she would get nowhere. Clearing her throat, Hermione nodded. "Second, thank you."

Severus's lips twitched. "You said that one already too."

"Properly this time," said Hermione. "I don't know how you did it, but…you pulled me out from whatever that horcrux was doing to me. I've never let myself get that way. Even last time when it was resisting, I was able to fight it off. For some reason it was different with the diary…and if you weren't there today, I probably wouldn't be here right now."

Severus patted her hand awkwardly and attempted a smile. "But you are, and that horcrux is not. That's all that matters."

Hermione nodded and sighed again. "I think it's time to go home now."

They rose up slowly and brushed their clothes, then began their journey back to their homes. Whether it was the excitement of their success or their tiredness, they did not know, but they spoke animatedly through the duration of the walk, barely stifling their laughter as they grew closer to Hermione's home. It was as if they were finally free, the horcrux no longer destroying their consciousness, and they could not be happier.

Severus stopped in front of her front door and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you at Hogwarts, then?"

"Yes." Hermione paused, as if wanting to say something more but was too unsure to say it. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Spit it out, then."

Hermione looked at Severus thoughtfully, and replied carefully, "One thing I've learned since I came to this decade is that nothing is set in stone, and that you should never assume anything of the future. And what you did today proved that whatever you saw of yourself in my memories when you were teaching me Occlumency isn't what you're going to be. You are brave and kind. The man I knew twenty years in the future was neither."

Severus was stunned speechless as Hermione gave him one last smile and went inside.

As she crept up to her room, she saw the lamp light on through Sirius's room. Quietly, she knocked.

The door opened to Sirius leaning against the doorframe. She couldn't seem him clearly as his face was hidden shadows, but she still make out the frown etched on his face.

"It's okay," she said softly. Sirius exhaled slowly and nodded.

"I'm glad," he replied. "You're a bloody reckless witch, did you know that?"

Hermione smiled widely. "Only too well." Clearing her throat and glancing down at her shoes briefly, Hermione whispered, "Well, good night, then."

"'Night, Hermione," said Sirius quietly, gazing at her in a way that made Hermione's heart beat quicken. Quickly she stepped away and headed for her room, not knowing why her face felt so warm all of a sudden.

**xxx**

"Can you believe this," said James with his mouth stuffed full of cauldron cakes, "' _Mysterious Fire Mystifies Muggles'_ —and it was right on the outskirts of our town!"

Sirius glanced at Hermione, who immediately stiffened and shook her head warningly. "Eh, I wouldn't believe too much of it, James," Sirius said off-handedly as he took a swig of pumpkin juice. "Sounds like a bit more of that Skeeter rubbish."

" ' _Two muggles taking a midnight stroll to walk their dogs witnessed an alarming fire in the forest by Kenilworth and Dixon,'_ " James continued. "' _The Department of Security arrived at the scene before Muggle interference and cleared the area. Dark Magical involvement is suspected.'"_

Hermione paled in her seat as the train to Hogwarts slowed down. James folded the  _Daily Prophet_  on his lap and stared out the window. "We were so close," he muttered sadly. "I didn't hear a thing."

"How could you, with you snoring so loudly?" Remus said quietly, causing Sirius to snort loudly.

"Did you hear anything, Hermione?" Peter asked hopefully.

Hermione glanced between Peter and the boys. She smiled wistfully. "Not a thing."

She caught Sirius's eye, who merely rolled his.

The train slowed to a stop after a few minutes, and everybody pulled on their robes and headed towards the carriages. It was dark and raining heavily as they headed up to the castle, the sweeping front lawn glistening with the light cast down from the castle. Quickly the sixth years ducked inside and went straight to the Great Hall.

Hermione's eyes roved over the four tables until they reached Slytherin. It was remarkable to her how many friends she had made from that House, yet at the same time it was no surprise at all. She saw Scabior sitting idly next to another sixth year girl, and Regulus sitting beside Severus. The latter caught her eye briefly, and without a hint of a smile, he looked away.

Had Severus read the Daily Prophet as well? The story was not front page news by any means, but the fact that the burning woods had not only been published, but the fire had been seen by muggles? Hermione shuddered to think what would happen if a muggle had been walking through the forest at that time…careless, she had been so careless….

"Hermione," said Sirius next to her, and Hermione glanced down to see him waiting for her to sit. Smiling sheepishly, Hermione sat beside him and watched as the plates and goblets instantly filled.

"Doesn't look any happier, does he?" Sirius noted. Hermione looked up in surprise. She followed his gaze to the Slytherin table, and said, "Regulus?"

"I saw you checking too. Merlin, what a year this will be—I don't think Regulus has hated me more than he does now."

"He doesn't hate you, Sirius," Hermione said patiently as she nibbled on a piece of chicken.

"He does. It's alright," said Sirius with a small shrug. "Has he told you anything since, er…since?"

"No," Hermione admitted with a sigh. "Neither Severus nor Regulus have told me any of it, but I know that…you know…it's done."

Sirius nodded, his eyes downcast. "I feel like a shit brother for letting it get this far. I should've—I dunno—steered him away from Mum more, kept his nose down and showed him the right way. I should've done  _something_. Instead I pushed him as far away from myself as I could. I mean, you remember how I treated him at the start of last year?"

"I do," said Hermione, "But Sirius—blaming yourself because someone chose their own path isn't the answer. I highly doubt you were responsible for pushing Regulus towards the Dark Arts," Hermione challenged, and Sirius sighed. "He was always going to be interested in it no matter what you said."

"Suppose you're right," Sirius acquiesced, and then smirked, "as always."

"The sooner you accept that fact, the easier your life will become," Hermione said primly, but her façade broke quickly as a smile curved her lips.

Sirius laughed, but sobered quickly. "So," his voice lowered, and he raised a questioning eyebrow. "'Mysterious Fire'?"

Hermione felt herself redden. "Maybe."

"Hermione, as enthusiastic as I am for conflagration, you have to be more careful," said Sirius. "The  _Prophet_  reported it as Dark Magic Death Eater shit, but the Death Eaters know they weren't involved. If this persists, they're going to start asking questions, and they'll trace everything back to you."

"I know," Hermione moaned helplessly. "I really didn't think anyone would be out to witness it, and—and that fire, it's really hard to control—" she clamped her mouth shut. Sirius raised a brow, but chose not to comment on it.

"Be careful," he said again, and Hermione nodded weakly. Sirius went back to his plate, and Hermione wondered how long she will manage before she  _does_  get caught….

After the feast, Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors sleepily trudged to the seventh floor and made their way through the common room and straight to the dormitories. Hermione changed into her night clothes and laid down on her four-poster bed with the red velvet curtains drawn around her, and stared up at the wooden ceiling until her eyes drooped, sleeping to the sound of the rain pattering against the windows.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two horcruxes down!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you to everyone who's sent me so many encouraging and kind messages! It means so much, honestly I don't know how I was lucky enough to have such a loving and kind fandom take their time to read my fic and spread such positivity.
> 
> This chapter ended amiably, and with good reason. Chapter 16 will bring us to Phase 2 of Hermione's time travel adventures. There will be definite parallels to Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
> 
> Thanks again to my best friend hinatas for beta'ing this chapter for me! She is a goddess!
> 
> Until Chapter 16! xx


	16. The Prophecy

**-:-**

The precipice between living and dying was, by most of the wizarding community, largely unacknowledged and ignored. The benefit of coming from magical heritage was the profound ignorance to one's own immortality, lest of course they were immersed in its study.

The same could not be said for wizards of muggle heritage. Muggles grew up knowing their existence was finite, that every memory was precious, every moment was fleeting.

That was what Hermione remembered as she lay gasping in the snow, a trail of warm blood falling into her hair.

**-:-**

**Chapter 16**

_The Prophecy_

Summer was quickly fading as the chill of autumn swept the grounds of Hogwarts. The morning mist rose high during the first week of fall, leaving Hermione's cheeks flushed against the pale wisps of air. Her eyes searched the skies in exasperation as Sirius jogged next to her to match her quick strides.

"But the theory should work, right? If I try to enchant one this summer, I won't have the trace and it'll work?"

"If you wait until after your birthday, of course it will work," Hermione agreed as she shifted her school bag. "But the magic is tricky; I knew someone who once enchanted a car to fly and it didn't have much longevity…"

"Ah, I'm not too worried about that," Sirius said easily, a familiar smirk falling in place. "You're forgetting you're looking at a genius."

Hermione snorted loudly as they reached the shade of a tree where Remus, Peter, and James were already sitting. James tossed Sirius an apple as they sat down.

"Remus was just telling me you two are already studying for the N.E.W.T.s," James said casually as he bit into his own fruit. "Mad, both of you. It's only been a month."

"The N.E.W.T.s won't care if it's been a month," Hermione said sternly as she took out a large book from her bag, opening it on her lap. She sighed wistfully. "It never changes, does it? My old friends were just as lazy, never listened—"

"Yes, yes," Sirius waved away her words carelessly. "I just find it hard to see you studying for exams while trying to overthrow Vol—"

" _Shh!_ " Hermione hissed warningly. "Do you want the whole school to hear? You can't mention this so brazenly!"

"What are we supposed to call it, then?" Sirius asked. "'The Quest'?"

"Call it whatever you like, but don't just blurt it out loudly in public," Hermione bit out.

"Have you, you know…told anyone yet?" asked Peter hesitantly. "Like Dumbledore?"

Hermione glanced around at the curious expressions surrounding her. She sighed. "No, I haven't," she said. "And I really don't want to. Or plan to."

"Why not?" Remus frowned. "We decided it was for the best, and this is serious—"

"I know it is! Which is why involving more people is not the way to go about it. Honestly, I keep repeating this over and over like a broken record—"

"A what?"

"Nevermind. I don't want anyone to interfere, and I know what I'm doing." Hermione looked away bitterly. She felt like every day she was repeating the same thing over and over, and she was getting irritated by it. "You don't understand. You have no idea what I've gone through."

No one said a word. Hermione closed the book on her lap and began stuffing it back in her bag. "I think I'm going to eat my lunch inside."

"We just want you to be safe, Hermione," Remus said quietly.

Hermione stilled. "Safe," Hermione said slowly. "Because telling Dumbledore would keep me safe, naturally. The moment I do, he'll think I'm mad try to stop me from doing anything ever again. He will monitor my every move, keep me locked inside, keep me  _safe_. But that's what you want, isn't it?" Hermione glared. "Isn't it?"

"Of course not," James said testily. "But you're right, what you're doing  _is_  mad."

"James…" Peter started.

No, it's true," James said stubbornly. "I won't go soft on her about this. You can't do this alone, Hermione."

"I didn't think I was alone anymore," said Hermione stiffly. "I guess I was wrong about that too."

"You're not," Remus said fiercely, now looking at James with annoyance.

"Well if she keeps doing this by herself, she will be! Blimey, she won't even tell us what she's doing, or what we can do to help! She's got it all bottled inside, like she always has—" James exploded. He closed his eyes and struggled to breathe evenly. "We understand that you're not ready to tell us anything about this yet. Somehow Snape knows about this and Regulus got roped into it, and that doesn't bring me any more comfort. But you have to do  _something_."

"I'm going to do this the only way I see safest for me," Hermione replied evenly. "I'm sorry if this bothers you."

James huffed. Remus tilted his head and looked at Sirius. "You're being awfully quiet over there. Don't you have something to say?"

Sirius looked up from his folded hands, his grey eyes sharp and calm. "Not at all. Hermione pretty much covered it all."

James looked at Sirius wildly. "You agree she shouldn't tell Dumbledore?"

"I think we ought to start widening our perspective, mate," said Sirius. "She knows what she's doing, and we need to start trusting that. She saved my brother's neck this summer. Not to mention what happened last time I made the mistake of distrusting her. So yeah," Sirius shrugged. "I don't have anything to say."

Hermione gazed at Sirius with surprise, and felt such a rush of affection for the young Gryffindor that she'd never felt in her life. The last thing she expected was for Sirius to come to her defense, but what he'd said to her in the summer must have been true.

"So you think what she's doing is right?"

"I think it's time we stopped forcing our decisions on her."

James was glaring at Sirius. It was almost uncomfortable to see, as Hermione had never seen James be truly angry at Sirius. Peter was shifting uneasily as his eyes darted back and forth between them, and Remus was looking mutinously down at his book.

"I don't think we're welcome here right now, Hermione," Sirius broke his gaze away from James and got to his feet with a soft sigh. He helped her up and said casually over his shoulder, "See you in Defense."

The walk to the castle was odd and quiet. Hermione threw furtive glances his way but couldn't get anything out of his expression; if anything, he looked tired.

"I'm not really hungry," said Sirius suddenly. "Want to head to the common room?"

"Er, why not," said Hermione as Sirius steered them to the grand staircase. They walked in amiable silence until they reached the Fat Lady's portrait, and Sirius let her through first before following her inside.

The common room was empty and silent. "I guess I could work on the essay Professor Binns assigned us to hand in next week—"

"Would you like to see something?" Sirius interrupted her, and Hermione's mouth parted in surprise.

"Er—sure?"

"Stay right here," Sirius whirled around and went up the stairs to his dormitory, leaving a dumbstruck Hermione.

He came back within a minute and settled himself down on an armchair. Hermione raised an eyebrow at his erratic behavior but remained silent.

"Hold out your hand," Sirius ordered. Hermione looked at him suspiciously.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes but complied. Sirius reached over and dropped a thick piece of parchment on her outstretched hand. Hermione's eyes went wide, for she knew perfectly well what this was. She looked at Sirius with alarm at first but quickly tampered it down to one of mild surprise.

"Parchment?" Hermione said, unimpressed.

The trademark smile lit Sirius's face. "Not just any parchment," he leaned closer and pressed the tip of his wand against the center of the parchment. "' _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_.'"

Like clockwork, ink sprung upon the parchment slowly, swirling into a perfect map of Hogwarts.

"We made this together, James, Remus, and Peter," Sirius smiled proudly. "Took ages, but we finally figured out every corner of this place, all the secret passageways…"

Hermione watched little footprints dart across the map, their names trailing beside them. "This…is a map that shows all of Hogwarts and the people in it."

Sirius beamed. "And now you get to see it."

Hermione smiled hesitantly, but it faded. "Sirius, why are you showing me this now? Is this—is this about James?" Sirius's eyebrows knitted in confusion as Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Because if this is some sort of revenge on him because you're angry, I really don't want any part in it."

"I didn't show this to spite him," Sirius frowned. "Well, I did a bit. But we were already planning on showing you this soon; I just sped up the process."

"And I suppose he really wanted to be there when I saw it," Hermione concluded, and Sirius gave her a carefully blank look that spoke volumes. "Well there's nothing to be done now," Hermione ran her fingers down the parchment as a small smile tugged at her lips. When was the last time she'd held this in her hands? Ages and ages ago…back when Harry was suspicious of Draco Malfoy, showing how his name would disappear off the map in the middle of the night…of course, Harry had been right about him, but it no longer mattered.

"What gave you all the idea to make it?"

Sirius grinned slyly. "Well, we all had a penchant for wandering about the castle after hours, and I suppose we grew tired of being sent to detention by prefects all the time."

Hermione smiled as a small laugh escaped her. She unfolded the map further and looked at her own name hovering in the Gryffindor Tower, with Sirius's name beside it. "This is pretty advanced magic, you know," she said off-handedly. "Being able to track every movement in the castle…hold on," she squinted at the map, and her eyes widened at the revelation. "This is your handwriting!"

Sirius looked smug as she gazed at him in amazement. Hermione had seen this map hundreds of times already, but she never even considered whose handwriting would be bewitched permanently onto the map. Her heart filled with delight, and she wished dearly that Harry could've known. It would have given him so much comfort after Sirius had gone beyond the veil…

Hermione frowned, her thoughts drifting to a darker place. Sirius, dead…James, Lily, Remus, Peter, Severus…all her friends, now…would she be able to keep them safe? Were there some things that could never be altered in the fabric of time? The sorting hat had warned her at the start of her journey about this, that there are always consequences…but it was a warning, nothing more than that. The hat did not and  _could_   _not_  predict the future. And Hermione was determined to keep it that way.

"Oi, why the gloomy face?" Sirius's words interrupted her thoughts, and Hermione looked up quickly. He'd been peering down at her as if he'd been trying to catch her eyes when they'd been downcast, and now tilted his head questioningly. "Thought this'd cheer us both up. Cheered  _me_  up a little."

"It did," Hermione smiled half-heartedly. "I was just thinking about my old friends before I transferred here. They were just like you lot, and this map reminded me of them…I guess I just miss them."

"Why don't you visit them?" Sirius asked. "And you could always write to them, too."

Hermione's frown etched deeper as a feeling of loneliness engulfed her body. "I can't," she said quietly. "They're gone too."

Hermione could feel Sirius's gaze boring through her, and she wished she hadn't brought this subject up. The last thing she wanted was yet another interrogation, yet another painful memory to be resurfaced...she didn't want to talk about this at all, and so she began thinking of ways to leave.

"Like your parents?" asked Sirius quietly, hesitantly.

Hermione nodded stiffly. Just as she was about to stand up to excuse herself, she felt Sirius's hand tentatively grasp hers. She glanced up at him in surprise.

"I won't pretend to understand what you're feeling, but I do know this. The ones who love us…they never really leave us, do they? They'll always be here," he placed his other hand over his heart, and smiled a little. "So you see, you're never really alone."

Hermione stared at him for a very long time until she broke into a wide smile. She turned her hand over to clasp his firmly, feeling as if the warmth of his hand had filled her veins with sunlight, and the memory of Harry and Ron grinning shined brightly in her mind.

**xxx**

Surprisingly, there was no brooding from James nor Sirius the following day. Hermione had expected the typical icy glances and muted avoidance, but none came. James and Sirius seemed to have patched things up relatively quickly, and Hermione suspected some convincing had been done on Sirius's part about Hermione's plans.

Whenever she thought about it, Hermione couldn't help the small smile that crept on her face. This was nothing like how it was last year, and it confirmed that she finally did something right; her friends' reactions were growing less and less suspicious and more concerned, and Sirius had somehow become her greatest ally in terms of making the marauders respect the freedom of her own choices.

As far as allies went, however, she didn't get the chance to sit down with Severus until the middle of the first term. It wasn't that he was avoiding her—or vice versa—there simply were less and less opportunities for them to speak on greater matters for more than a few minutes. She noted that Severus could be seen hanging about the usual Slytherin gang (half of whom were now inducted Death Eaters) more and more; by contrast, Regulus seemed to have made it a mission to make himself scarce during these times.

On the day before their first Hogsmeade trip, Severus dropped down in a chair across from her in the library.

Hermione slowly lifted her gaze as she flipped a page of her book. "You better hide that before Madame Pince catches you. Apparently she's set a no-food policy in the library."

Severus took a large bite from his apple and smirked, the sound of his crunching echoing against the towering bookshelves.

"Did you see Lena Quarkley yesterday?"

"Terrible, what happened to her," said Hermione sadly, leaning back against the chair and stretching. "Did she at least get the goal? I couldn't hear over the cheering once Emmett caught the snitch."

"She didn't," said Severus with a half-shrug. "Twelve fractures and broken bones for nothing…she won't leave her room anymore, says she looks like an Egyptian mummy."

"People better not be teasing her," said Hermione darkly as she picked up her quill and dipped it quickly in the inkpot. Severus was quiet for a few minutes as he stared out the high-arched window, the sound of a quill scratching against parchment drifting between them.

"Tomorrow's the first Hogsmeade trip," Severus mentioned.

"Mhm," Hermione muttered. "It loses its appeal after the first dozen trips, frankly."

"Hermione," Severus said quietly. "Tomorrow is the first Hogsmeade trip."

Her quill paused in its movement. Hermione lifted her eyes slowly, taking in Severus's careful expression. Slowly, she set down her quill and straightened.

"And what will you be doing when you're there?" asked Hermione lightly.

"I don't know yet," Severus replied. "I don't know that much to be honest. But I'm pretty sure I'll want something sweet later on, probably around noon."

"Hmm," Hermione nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."

Severus took another bite of his apple. "I should probably get rid of this before I'm banished from the library forever." He leaned forward as if to brush off his robes as he stood, but instead smoothly slid a note underneath her textbook.

He whirled around quickly and disappeared behind a bookshelf, his robes fluttering behind him. A few moments later she heard the door to the library open, then close loudly. Hermione exhaled and pressed her hand against her forehead.

The first Death Eater meeting was being held somewhere in Hogsmeade. At first Hermione had been thrown by Severus's strange choice of words, but now it was all finally making sense—why Severus had been so absent these past few weeks, why they rarely spoke about important things in the small opportunities they  _did_  have, and now why he indirectly told her about the first meeting. It all had to do with keeping his façade of loyalty while simultaneously keeping Hermione under the radar yet informed. While it seemed far-fetched that a bunch of students would be watching Severus under such scrutiny, it was better being safe than sorry. They were much more than just students now…they had made a life decision by joining the Death Eater movement.

What was she supposed to do with this information? She had no idea where or when the meeting would be, and she wasn't sure she wanted to have anything to do with it. This was Severus's role; the last thing she wanted to do was interfere.

Hermione glanced around surreptitiously before lifting her book and picking up the note Severus left for her. Stuffing it swiftly in her bag, Hermione packed her things and sprinted back to her dormitory. It would be safest to read the note in the privacy of her own room.

The common room was bustling with excitement; a group of third years were listen with rapt fascination as James regaled a story of getting dunked into a barrel of cockroach clusters.

"Aren't you banned from some of the Hogsmeade shops?" one boy piped up. "You, Black, and Pettigrew—"

"The caramel-window rumors are true," James said distastefully, but not looking a bit put-out. "But our banishment's been since lifted—it was only up to last spring, right, Peter?" Peter nodded eagerly. "Right, so it's long past spring by now. A whole new year is ahead of us," James grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she quickly went to the girl's dormitory. She reached inside her bag and took out the note, eyes roving over it quickly. She frowned irritably and started to tear the paper, muttering, "As always."

**xxx**

"Will there ever be a time where I don't get cryptic messages?" Hermione crossed her arms as Severus approached her. She shivered slightly at the relentless gust of wind. "We need to find a new place once winter's here."

"Do you know anywhere private where we can eat our lunch?"

Hermione shrugged. "I dunno. The library used to be a good place, but I guess even there isn't safe anymore." She raised an eyebrow pointedly and Severus huffed.

"I couldn't risk it," Severus defended. "What if they'd overheard?"

"You're telling me the least academically driven Slytherins would waste their time sneaking about the library?" Hermione challenged dryly. "I'm so afraid."

"Whatever," Severus mumbled. "It's not been easy these past few weeks. A single slip-up and I'll be the next Nearly Headless Nick."

"That's not funny," Hermione glowered. "It's…it's not that serious, though, is it? I mean, you're still just kids. They can't be taking this so seriously inside Hogwarts, right?"

"Isn't it you who's always saying we're not kids anymore?" Severus stated with a wry smile. "I'm just being careful. It's really not so terrible…most of it, anyway. I'm used it. Regulus, on the other hand…"

"I've hardly seen him since school started," Hermione frowned. "I thought he was just avoiding you."

"He's avoiding everything," said Severus. "He turns up when he has to, but mostly he sticks by himself now. Even Scabior's starting to give up on him, and they were actually friends."

Hermione scowled. "Why is he doing this?"

"Think of it in his perspective, Hermione. Would you be happy right now if you were him?"

"I'm not happy as it is," said Hermione. "But I see what you're saying."

Severus looked at her carefully. "So…how've things been with you, since…you know."

Hermione arched a brow. "Since the forest?"

Severus nodded.

"Well," Hermione inhaled deeply. "The same, really. I haven't gotten any closer to finding more horcruxes. Sirius has been a pretty good friend since the summer. I keep expecting him to change back to not trusting me and being wary around me…but he hasn't. Not even when we skirt the topic of what I'm doing against Voldemort. James on the other hand has been, I dunno…the rest of them aren't very happy with my decisions, but they've accepted it I suppose."

"Naturally Potter would be the last to understand," Severus commented with much heat. "So long as he and the others don't behave the way they did last year. Like I had behaved at the end of last term."

"They won't," Hermione said firmly. "And you really should stop blaming yourself for that, Severus, you know I understood."

Severus shrugged. Hermione sighed quietly. "So why did you want to meet here? Anything important."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Is that all I am to you now? An informant?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said in shock. She narrowed her eyes when she caught Severus's smirk.

"It may come as a surprise, but I  _have_  missed you," Severus grunted. "I thought we could catch up. The job description of being a Death Eater sort of implies having a standard of who I'm friends with, and if any of the Slytherins saw me spending so much time with you…"

"They would get suspicious," Hermione finished tiredly. "It makes sense. I get why you haven't been around much."

Severus shrugged. "It won't be for long."

"Is it the same with Lily?" asked Hermione curiously. "You two are sort of friends again, right? If you're avoiding me because of the Death Eaters, is it the same with Lily?"

"Sort of. We have advanced potions together this time, so yeah, I've gotten the chance to talk to her," Severus tugged at his green tie a bit uncomfortably. "It's not the same as before. And I think it was supposed to be that way, so it doesn't really bother me anymore."

"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned. "You and Lily are still friends, though…?"

"We are a little," said Severus hesitantly, "but like I said, it's not the same. It was never meant to be. At least, not now."

Hermione locked her eyes onto Severus, trying to piece together what he wasn't saying out loud. His gaze was unflinching, but filled with something much deeper than what was being said…Hermione's suspicions began to grow louder…until she came to a conclusion she deeply dreaded.

"No," she whispered. She stared at Severus wildly, eyes wide open, praying he would prove her thoughts wrong. "You didn't—you couldn't've—right?" She gripped his sleeve tightly. "You didn't see…"

His gaze finally lowered as he stared down his lap. "When we were in the forest, and the horcrux had taken control, I had to get you out of it," said Severus in a low, calm voice. "I had to reach into your mind and pull you out. And I  _tried_ , I tried very hard not to look—I didn't want to, those weren't my memories to see—but they were burning in my mind, for that's what the horcrux's power was doing to you—and I saw only for five seconds. The things you didn't like to think about, what you've been keeping to yourself secret for so long…I'm sorry," Severus said emphatically. "I couldn't stop it—if I could've I wouldn't have looked at a single memory. I'm not supposed to know. I can see that now."

Hermione's hand loosened its grip on Severus's sleeve until it dropped by her side. "What did you see?" she said hollowly.

Severus swallowed heavily. "I saw Lily," he said hoarsely. "And P—James. And the boy. I saw terrible things done to him, your friend Harry…" he broke off as he shook his head. "And Lupin and Black, and  _Pettigrew—!_ "

"No," Hermione said firmly. Her shock had now faded into determination. "You need to forget what you saw about Peter. What you saw about James and Lily, Remus, Sirius—that's all what  _my_  future was. It's different now. You can't think of Peter as the man he was in my memories. They're not dead, and he's not a murderer, just as you aren't a vile, bitter old man."

"But what if there's some things that can't be changed?" said Severus. "Lily and I—we were never meant to be. I had said the same, disgusting thing back in your time that I did last May. We're two people who aren't meant to be friends—no, Hermione, listen. Right now, this is how it's supposed to be. I can see now that while things have changed since you came to my time, some things are stagnant, unchangeable. For now, my friendship with Lily is one of those things. And I'm alright with that."

"You're being silly," Hermione snapped. "You can't go on assuming these things."

"I'm making my own choices," Severus replied smoothly. "This is one of them. Perhaps in the future I'll think about mending our broken friendship better, but right now our priority is destroying horcruxes and defeating the Dark Lord."

"Fine," Hermione said sharply. "Do whatever you like. But if this is because you think James and Lily—well, fine, then, but that doesn't mean you can't be her friend!"

Severus looked back at her, wistfulness and resilience written clearly in his expression.

Hermione looked away in frustration. He was being unreasonable. And he was only  _just_  telling her that he'd seen her memories! Why hadn't he told her right after she destroyed the horcrux? Angry thoughts buzzed inside her mind as she fumed silently, leaving Hermione irritable and hungry.

"What's your plan at Hogsmeade?" Hermione decided to change the subject as she began eating her forgotten lunch in earnest.

Severus cleared his throat and said quickly, "Well, I don't know where exactly we'll be going, but the meeting will be done before noon. I figured we could meet at—"

"Actually I thought about it, and maybe we shouldn't," Hermione interrupted. "It'll seem suspicious for you to see me right after a Death Eater meeting, don't you think? Let's just wait a bit, and then you can tell me everything."

Severus nodded in understanding. "It makes sense, I suppose. The day after, then?"

"The day after," she said grimly.

Their lunchtime passed in silence that was neither uncomfortable nor amiable, and soon they departed to their respective classes. Severus's words haunted her thoughts for the next three classes, not once raising her hand as she often would to answer a question. Consumed with questions, Hermione was silent for most of the day.

She remained this way throughout dinner, eating distractedly as she tried not to glance across at the Slytherin table. She couldn't help the thoughts that were troubling her; had something been changed unintentionally with Severus seeing into her future? The burden of altering time was supposed to be only on Hermione,  _she_ was the catalyst in this time, only she was supposed to have full knowledge of what could be. Deep down Hermione knew she was thinking too deeply into this and that Severus seeing so much of her memories wouldn't change anything. For all she knew, Severus meant to see her future all along. After all, hadn't he seen himself in her memories anyway during their first Occlumency lesson?

A headache was starting to make its presence known near her temples, and Hermione sighed. There was still so much she didn't know about time travel, about the consequences of time alteration—at least, not for the Time-Turner she'd used. She knew perfectly about the one she used in her third year, and those principles of time travel were relatively straightforward. But using a Time-Turner that was folklore even in the wizarding world gave her very little source material to study from.

Hermione stared at her plate, her food mostly untouched, and pushed it away, her appetite having been lost many hours ago. "I think I'm going to head in early," Hermione said to Lily who was sitting beside her.

"You sure? The dessert's about to pop up in a few minutes," Lily frowned slightly.

Hermione nodded. "I think I just need some rest."

Lily smiled encouragingly. "I'll see you later, then."

Hermione stepped away from the bench and swiftly left the Great Hall, lost in her thoughts. Ghosts drifted lazily above her as she made her way up the staircase, wishing that Gryffindor Tower wasn't all the way up on the seventh floor.

She nearly missed a door closing softly as she passed the corridor to the third floor. She paused, narrowing her eyes as she squinted down the empty hall. The lamplight was dim and flickering, casting shadows and muted darkness beyond the flames' reach. She almost dismissed it entirely until she heard a loud shout echoing distantly down the corridor.

_For once in your life, mind your business and go to bed._  For a moment she nearly listened to herself and turned away. But curiosity got the best of her (as it tended to), and she discarded her plans of a quiet evening in bed with a book as she walked down the third floor.

In all honesty, Hermione wasn't the investigative type in the old trio—it had always been Harry who'd done all the primary snooping (and landing himself in detention half the time), and Hermione had always been the resourceful one to triple check everything from the library and gently drop inquisitive questions to professors who indulged her bookish curiosity. Now, as she lurked quietly down the corridor alone, she found herself missing Harry and Ron's presence beside her dearly, hidden under the safety of Harry's invisibility cloak and the Marauder's map in tow.

Whoever was down this corridor was making no effort in concealing their voices. Hermione's cheeks reddened at the thought of this being nothing more than a couple having a private moment in an empty classroom. She would be mortified to find them in a compromising position…but the thought disappeared when she heard what was distinctly an argument coming from a door on her left, and her breath caught when she recognized the voices.

Hermione was right in front of the door by now and she wanted to leave immediately. As much as she wanted to help and as curious as she was, this wasn't her place right now. Just as Hermione was about to whirl around and pretend she never came down this way, the door flew open.

Regulus flinched at the sight of her and then rolled his eyes, muttering 'of course' before shouldering past her quickly. Hermione's mouth parted as silent words formed on the tip of her tongue. He disappeared from the corridor and went down the staircase. She glanced briefly at the classroom, the door now wide open, and tentatively peeked inside.

"Was wondering when you'd show your face again. Not a single letter all summer. I'm hurt."

Scabior was leaning casually against a chair, his feet propped up against a desk and tilting back so the chair was balancing on its back legs. He smiled disarmingly, then pressed a cigarette to his lips and inhaled.

Hermione's eyebrows nearly rose to her hairline. "Since when did you start?"

"Who said I'm only just starting?" Scabior grinned wide, revealing two rows of pearly teeth.

"At least make sure to banish the smoke and freshen up the room before you leave," Hermione groused.  _I could've been in my bed right now,_  Hermione thought wistfully as crossed her arms. "I don't recall you writing me a letter all summer either."

"So I didn't," Scabior acknowledged, his mirth not quite reaching his eyes. "Why are you here?"

Hermione sighed, leaning against the wall. "I was heading to my dorm when I saw something down this corridor. It seemed strange, so…here I am."

"Always meddling where you shouldn't, eh, Granger," Scabior dropped the cigarette onto the table before him and flicked his wand lazily, banishing the cylinder with a puff of smoke. "It'll be the end of you soon if you keep that up. Bad shit's going down."

Hermione peered at him carefully, her eyes dropping down to his right forearm that was covered by his robe. Scabior followed her gaze and snorted.

"Don't worry," Scabior pulled up his sleeve, revealing a clear forearm absent of any tattoo. "Even they got standards, and I wasn't particularly interested."

"We both know just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there," Hermione said lightly. Scabior looked at her oddly.

"Why do you know that?"

Hermione's lips twitched. "I'm always meddling where I shouldn't."

Scabior scoffed as he rolled down his sleeve. "Trust me, I wouldn't make a show of it if I had gotten it. You can sleep easy tonight." His lips twisted into a snarl as he spat, "Bet you know all about Regulus, though. Heard you had a nice long chat with him a few weeks ago."

Hermione lifted her chin, her voice soft. "He made his choice, Scabior. No one in the world could've changed his mind."

"Then he's a bloody idiot," Scabior seethed, his chair slamming down loudly on the ground as he dropped his feet from the table. "He deserves what's coming."

Hermione glared at him sharply. "No. You're his only friend right now, you do  _not_  get to be an ass. And honestly, did you expect anything different? You knew exactly what road he was walking on before, and I don't remember you jumping through hoops trying to stop him!"

"Oh fuck off," said Scabior, shaking his head. "You know us for one year and you think you've figured us all out? It ain't my bloody fault he don't listen, he won't even bloody tell me what's going on with him now, 'cept showing me that arm of his a few minutes ago—"

"And then you blew up in his face, didn't you! No wonder he's afraid to tell you anything anymore!"

Scabior glared at her but his shoulders hunched slightly. He looked away, anger and frustration radiating from him as he fiddled with his wand. Hermione stayed silent, not wanting to break whatever thought process that was going on in Scabior's head. She was fighting fatigue and sleep as it was, and just barely noticed when Scabior rose to stand. She eyed him warily as he sauntered over to her, pausing just a few feet from Hermione.

"Sorry 'bout the 'fuck off' back there," he grumbled, coughing a little before sauntering out of the classroom.

Hermione blinked a few times once he was gone, then gritted her teeth and fought the urge to slam her head against the wall. She chose to spare herself a worsening headache by leaving the room and sprinting to her room, diving under her blankets, and vowing that she would never, ever deliberately interfere with other people's issues because she was very, very done with being everybody's nanny.

**xxx**

A high-pitched squeal woke all the girls in the dorm the next morning.

Hermione groaned, rolling to her side and pushing herself into a sitting position. Her hair was wild and even bushier than usual, her eyes still closed as if watching the last bits of a forgotten dream. The air stirred around her and there was scurrying movement across her four-poster bed, and finally Hermione opened her eyes.

"Snow!" someone shouted happily. "Snow on Halloween!"

Hermione scowled and slipped off the bed, padding over to the nearest window and gasping. She turned away and sought Lily, who was trudging zombie-like towards Hermione while rubbing an eye tiredly.

"Lily, come quick," Hermione urged. Lily straightened and focused on Hermione's face, an inquisitive look causing her lips to pout. She sidled next to Hermione and looked out the window.

"Well that's a first," she said, nonplussed. "It's not snowing now. Must've happened while we were sleeping."

"This can't be normal," said Hermione dubiously.

"Who are we to argue with nature," Lily shrugged and turned away, heading towards the bathroom.

The sky was overcast with grey and white as a heavy stillness enveloped the castle with a cold, iron grip. Something was stirring in the air; the winds were changing and chills were sweeping down the spines of the inhabitants of Hogwarts, leaving everyone with an inexplicable notion to stay indoors though it was largely dismissed.

Hermione bundled herself warmly underneath her school robes as she quickly went down for breakfast. It was still quite early in the morning, but the prospect of a Hogsmeade trip coupled with the early snowfall prompted nearly all the students to scarf down some food and head out immediately. Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus were halfway through their meal by the time Hermione arrived, sliding quickly next to Sirius.

"So," James began, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth, "where do we begin this time? A quick stop to the Three Broomsticks and then Zonko's? I'm running low on my Filibuster's Fireworks—"

"Actually Remus and I wanted to stop by Honeydukes first," said Peter, exchanging amused looks with Remus. "You know his sweet tooth."

"Hell yes we do," Sirius winked slyly at Remus, who smiled widely and winked back. James and Peter sniggered in their porridge, and Hermione looked between them strangely.

"Did I miss something?" she smiled hesitantly, not liking the way Peter snorted loudly and James glanced at Sirius.

"A story for another time, sister," James reassured. "Right now we have to go."

"Not yet, mate," Remus pointed across the room, and watched as an owl came soaring towards them. It squawked loudly before dropping a letter onto James's plate.

"Is that from your mum? Can you ask her if she's making those little apple pies for Christmas this year?" asked Sirius eagerly.

"It's from Xenophilius Lovegood," said James slowly, looking at everyone in shock. "Why would he write to me? He all but threw us out last time we saw him."

"Dunno. Maybe he wants you to join a hunt for three-eyed porcuprickles," Peter suggested.

"You did tell him to write to you if something ever happened," Hermione reminded, looking at the letter warily.

James glanced at her unsurely and looked down at the letter. With fumbling fingers he tore it open, his eyes moving rapidly over the note.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "This…shit."

"What?" said Sirius. James handed it over and Sirius took it quickly. Hermione leaned towards him, her head almost brushing the side of his as they read the letter.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I was told to write to you should something occur that I saw fit to inform…while I didn't take it seriously at the time, I felt this was something that warranted an owl, given the current state of things...alas I still haven't found another paper supplier to publish this in the latest issue of the Quibbler…._

_A muggle family was found dead in their home in Leeds. The Dark Mark was not spotted above their home, but it can be confirmed Dark Magic was involved._

_X. Lovegood_

Sirius slid the letter towards Remus and Peter, and Hermione slowly straightened again.

"What does this mean?" asked Sirius quietly. He turned to look at Hermione. "Could this be..?"

"It has to," Hermione said firmly. "And it's close to the time frame when my family was murdered last year, don't you think?" Everyone flinched at her words, but Hermione chose to ignore it. "This isn't coincidence. I have…a very bad feeling about this."

Sirius's eyes snapped to hers sharply. Hermione gazed back levelly and shook her head just barely.  _Later_.

"We'll talk about this on the way," said Remus. "Let's get going."

They briskly made their way to the Entrance Hall and began their trek to Hogsmeade. Sirius held back slightly and paced his strides to match with Hermione's as the other three trudged thickly through the snow in front of them. Once reaching the village Sirius waved his hand sheepishly at them, calling, "You three go on up, we're gonna check out the view of the Shrieking Shack for a bit."

Hermione looked up at Sirius sharply, not liking that he had made this unexpected decision for her without letting her speak. Sirius held out his elbow and Hermione glared briefly before taking his arm into hers.

One they reached the view to the Shrieking Shack, Sirius wasted no time.

"What's going to happen today?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I found out yesterday from Severus that there's going to be a Death Eater meeting today. Somewhere in Hogsmeade. I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner, I just—had other things on my mind yesterday."

Sirius's jaw clenched. "I don't feel good about this, Hermione. I don't think we should be here today."

Hermione's heart fluttered anxiously in agreement. She didn't like this at all either. The murder, the meeting at Hogsmeade, even the damned snow was flashing bright red warning signs in her head. Something very bad was going to happen today, worse than the news they got from that letter…

"Let's—let's tell the others," Hermione said restlessly. "I'd feel much safer once we're back at the castle."

They headed back towards the bustling village, and Hermione began shivering in earnest. Sirius glanced at her warily, but said nothing.

"Where did they say they'd be?" asked Hermione.

"Er, Three Broomsticks? Or, no, Honeydukes?"

"Three Broomsticks is on the way first, let's try there," she replied. They strode briskly towards the entrance to the Three Broomsticks, and just as Hermione's fingers brushed against the doorknob, Sirius suddenly stopped her.

"What?"

Hermione looked at Sirius suspiciously as he looked at her, chagrined. "I think it's best if you went inside yourself for this one," he coughed.

"...And why would I do that?"

"Er, well," Sirius looked extremely uncomfortable. "You know, it's the Three Broomsticks, so…" Hermione shook her head, not understanding where he was going with this. Sirius scratched his head. "Madame Rosmerta is in there, and if I go in then I'll be stuck there for an hour-"

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the inn. "Honestly, your head is more inflated than Ron's ever was..."

"Who's?"

Hermione ignored him. They quickly entered the cozy inn and stood awkwardly by the door, their eyes darting urgently for any sight of their friends.

"I don't think they're here," Sirius muttered. Hermione sidled past him and walked along the rows of tables, ignoring the brief glances thrown her way.

"Looking for someone, dear?"

Hermione turned to a good-looking witch drying a glass behind the bar.

"You know James Potter?" she asked.

The woman broke into a grin and laughed lightly. "Do I ever! Are you looking for them?"

"Yes," said Hermione quickly, a spark of hope igniting in her.

"He and his friends haven't come here yet. Don't worry, they always stop by during one of their school trips, or my name isn't Madame Rosmerta," she smiled heartily.

Hermione wilted at her words and turned away, walking back slowly to where Sirius stood. He was leaning against the wall by the door and slouching, as if trying to disappear into the shadows of the room.

"You were right, they're not here," Hermione sighed quietly. Sirius pushed away from the wall and pulled her arm gently.

"Come on, let's try Honeydukes."

"Yeah…" Hermione let herself get pulled a bit towards the door, but dug her heels suddenly into the wooden floor when she caught sight of someone she never expected to see for many years to come. " _Trelawney_?"

A young witch sitting at the table adjacent to Sirius and Hermione jumped in surprise. Her appearance was just as mystical and disheveled as Hermione remembered, even wearing several multicolored shawls and bangles. "Pardon?"

"Do you know her?" Sirius whispered, and Hermione swallowed.

"Erm, sort of," Hermione fought to think of something quickly. "She's—well, don't you recognize her from the books? Cassandra Trelawney's great-great-granddaughter, Sybill Trelawney?"

Sirius's brows furrowed in deep thought. "What, the Seer?"

"Famed Seer, thank you," Trelawney sniffed, straightening proudly in her seat at Hermione's knowledge. "I see you are acquainted with the noble art of divination?"

"Not a fan, sorry," said Hermione briskly, but Trelawney's hand shot out and snatched Hermione's hand before she could move away.

"It is of no matter, dear, no matter…I was told I'd be here for a job interview, though I didn't suspect they'd send a child for the job…pity…"

Sirius couldn't help but crack a smile. "Wouldn't you have 'seen' it though?"

Trelawney narrowed her eyes behind the large oval glasses. Hermione tried to break free from her grip.

"Sorry, you've mistaken me for somebody else—we really better be going—"

Hermione scowled when the grip on her hand became tighter. She looked at Trelawney warily, and froze when she saw her hooded eyes had now misted over, rolling dangerously behind her glasses.

"Sirius—Sirius, help—she won't let go—"

Hermione watched frightenedly as Sirius tried to pry Trelawney's hand from Hermione's, but could not. Sirius made a sound of frustration and growled, "Let her go, you madwoman—"

A sharp, rasping breath came from Trelawney, and she tightened her grip on Hermione's hand to the point of crushing, causing Hermione to cry out in pain. Trelawney opened her mouth as her head tilted to the side, and began to speak.

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born under stars older in years, born with the vision not ours to see…and the Dark Lord will mark them as their equal, but they will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…for he will not live while they survive, and they will not live while he survives…"_

Trelawney's head snapped back and she began to cough, and immediately Hermione snatched her hand away. She cradled her hand against her chest and glanced fearfully at Sirius, who was shocked into silence.

Trelawney cleared her throat and glanced back and forth between Hermione and Sirius. "So sorry, dears, did I miss something?"

Hermione backed out of the inn and ran, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. She could hear Sirius running behind her and she stopped once they were far away from the Three Broomsticks.

"What," Sirius panted, "was  _that?_ "

Hermione shook her head wildly, unable to speak. What the hell was going on? What the—what the hell was going on!

"She just made a prophecy," said Hermione tremulously, her body shaking. "She…she made a prophecy…about me… _us_ …or…" A lump formed in her throat as the words of the prophecy repeated over and over in her head, twisting and gnarling into uneven seams, and Hermione clutched her hair tightly until sparks of pain shot from her scalp. Lightheaded and dizzy, Hermione staggered backwards and nearly fell had Sirius not been nearby. He grabbed her arms and steadied her.

"What do you mean, about you? How could that be about you? And us?"

Hermione's eyes darted around Hogsmeade fretfully. "We need to get out of here, we need to leave now, this doesn't feel right—" Hermione's words were cut off as a violent tremor ran through her body, causing her to shout in pain.

"Shit! Hermione, what—!"

Hermione gritted her teeth at the familiar tremors, the same she had felt in the carriages last year; the aftereffects of a Cruciatus Curse she'd never actually been hit with….

"Fine—I'm—fine—" Hermione gasped. She dropped to her knees as she tried to catch her breath.  _What does this mean? What does this mean? Why is this happening now!_

Somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind she knew there was a connection behind all this, there was something the universe was trying to tell her, but she was too frightened to piece it together.

"We need to get you out of here," Sirius said firmly, and helped her up. "James and the rest can manage on their own. Let's go."

He slung her arm around his neck and helped her to her feet. Hermione tried to calm down as faint tremors racked her frame. They lumbered past several shops unsteadily, Sirius keeping a firm grip on her waist as they walked. They made a sharp turn to a path that would lead them towards the castle, where they were confronted with a towering, hooded figure.

"Night night," the figure hissed softly, and raised its wand.

Hermione's eyes widened in terror as she saw the tip of the wand ignite red, and she pushed Sirius away.

Behind them screams started to fill the air, and Hermione whipped out her wand and shot spell after spell at the hooded figure, ignoring the searing pain in her hand and body. Sirius had caught his bearings and had his wand out and firing at another hooded figure sweeping nearby. Within moments both of them fell unconscious into the snow, leaving a panting Sirius and Hermione.

The echoing screams behind them were drowned by roaring flames as tall and towering as skyscrapers.

"We need to help them," Sirius shouted.

They ran back and saw more hooded figures in black than Hermione could count, and her heart sank as reality dawned on her. This was the Death Eater meeting all along.

Students were screaming and running, third-years frozen in absolute shock and the shop owners battling down the Death Eaters as well as the flames engulfing their shops. Sirius and Hermione stood no chance fighting against such an organized force when there were students on every corner getting hit and a fire spiraling out of control.

"Come on, come on, get out! RUN!" Hermione shouted at the terrified students. Sirius blasted a Death Eater clean off their feet and helped up a Ravenclaw who was bleeding profusely from his arm. Hermione blocked a jinx and fired back, watching her opponent crumple to the ground.

She turned around focused on the flames and knew it was fiendfyre immediately. Raising her wand high in the air, she slashed it quickly into a practiced move that was now second nature to Hermione. Almost instantly, the flames vanished.

The crowd around her grew smaller and smaller until Sirius gripped her arm and they began to run back to the castle. They staggered to a halt when a figure appeared before them, just by the entrance pathway that led to the castle.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

Hermione and Sirius both fired a curse the same time as the figure shot his. Sirius cried out and fell against her, causing them to crash into the ground.

Flat on the ground and pinned by Sirius's body, Hermione raised her wand at the hooded figure and screamed, " _REDUCTO!_ "

It disappeared. Hermione panted breathlessly under the weight of Sirius's motionless body. She felt warmth starting to seep into her clothes and froze.

"Sirius?"

No reply came. Hermione shifted a little and pushed at Sirius's shoulders, turning him over to his side and lifting him off herself. She let out a cry at the sight before her; blood was pooling into the white snow from Sirius's chest and arms, as if someone had taken a sword and slashed viciously all across his body.

"No, no…" Hermione lifted his arm to feel for a pulse, but his wrist was too badly damaged. Pushing her fear aside, Hermione pointed her wand at Sirius's torso.

" _Vulnera sanentur,_ " she breathed, watching the blood flow start to ease up. " _Vulnera sanentur…Vulnera sanentur…._ "

Sirius sighed deeply, and Hermione almost wept in relief. Staggering to her feet, she pointed her wand at Sirius again and incanted clearly, " _Levicorpus_."

Slowly, with Sirius's body hovering beside her, Hermione walked to the castle.

**xxx**

The first thing Sirius noted was that he was not in pain. Which was...odd, because he distinctly remembered being in a lot of pain before. Before, before before…what?

He licked his dry lips and noticed it tasted like rust, metallic and coarse against his tongue. Unpleasant. He needed that lip balm James gave him as a Christmas gift years ago—

The thought of James brought his memories rushing forward like a flowing stream and he gasped, his eyes flying open.

White familiar walls, soft linen sheets he's slept in far too often. The hospital wasn't his favorite place, but it was comfortable at least…his vision was somewhat blurry still, but he realized immediately that someone was sitting beside him. Someone with very unmanageable hair.

When his vision cleared, his eyes settled on the calm, still figure that was Hermione Granger. She was watching Sirius silently, but behind the cool exterior he could see traces of something he was afraid to know.

"Hermione," he croaked. Sirius tried again, clearing his throat. "Hermione."

She smiled a little. "Sirius."

"What…happened?"

Hermione's smile faded. "You were hurt. Someone cast a very terrible curse at you. You've been sleeping for a while."

"You saved me," he stated. Hermione nodded.

"I knew the curse. Someone at my school used it once."

Sirius fell silent. Then, after a while, he said, "Is everyone safe?"

Sirius watched in horror as her eyes filled. She shook her head and assured him quickly, "Yes. Yes, everyone is safe. No one's been seriously injured…everyone is alive."

Sirius sighed in relief and closed his eyes. "Thank Merlin." He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione again. "What is it, then? Why do you look so put out? Everyone's safe!"

Hermione's lower lip trembled, but she bit on it and shook her head. "No. No, Sirius…no one is safe. No one will ever be safe until this all ends." Sirius tilted his head uncomprehendingly, and a flash of anger crossed Hermione's eyes. "You almost  _died_ , Sirius! You were as good as dead! If I hadn't known the counter spell for  _Sectumsempra_  you wouldn't be living right now, do you understand that?"

Sirius stared back at her in surprise. "I'm not dead, Hermione."

"But you could have been," she said fiercely. "You could have been."

Sirius watched Hermione curiously as she ran her hands across her face, digging her fingers into her hair and hunching over, as if she wanted nothing more than to curl in onto herself. But she did not; she dropped her hands to her sides and sat straight in her seat beside him, and looked at him directly in the eye.

"It's time I put aside my selfishness, Sirius. What happened in Hogsmeade is proof more than ever that it is time." She squared her jaw and said, "It's time you know who I really am."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NOTE:** Parts of this chapter used semi-direct lines from the Harry Potter books and movies; these lines belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, and were used to further the plot of this fanfiction only.
> 
> Well then!
> 
> Consider this chapter a metaphorical end to the first segment of Sands of Destiny, and Phase Two has begun. This is what I've been building up to for three years now, and you have no idea how excited I am now that I can finally write all the things we've been waiting for.
> 
> An overwhelming thank you to **hinatas** for beta'ing, critiquing, and overall being the best soundboard a writer could ask for.


	17. And Begin Again

**Chapter 17**

_And Begin Again_

**xxx**

His bag was weighed down by the thick, black cloak hidden inside, but Severus barely noticed. His eyes were currently trained on the boy in front of him, walking slowly with the crowd of terrified students emerging from the shops of Hogsmeade and back to Hogwarts. It hadn't been difficult assimilating into the groups of students, and Severus looked forward to locking himself in the Slytherin bathroom and washing away the dirt on his hands. But first thing's first.

Severus could hear McGonagall barking out orders in the distance. His eyes shifted over to Avery and Mulciber strolling lazily beside him, an unmistakable air of satisfaction upon them. His stomach turned at the sight and he looked away, training his eyes back to the boy a few paces ahead of him.

When Hogwarts came in sight the students all but ran to the castle, and Severus joined them. He passed through the Entrance hall and swept into the dungeons, following the figure before him. Just as they approached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Severus grabbed a fistful of robes and spun the figure around.

"What the f—"

Severus didn't allow him to finish; casting a quick Silencing charm, he dragged the boy into a broom cupboard and tossed him to the ground.

"What the  _hell_  were you thinking?" Severus roared.

Regulus shrank back at the volume of his voice but continued to scowl. "What?" he shouted.

"You dared? You  _dared_  use my own spell in a duel as a Death Eater? You bloody  _fool!_ " Severus kicked Regulus's leg hard, causing him to yelp. "What if they trace it back to me? Do you ever think? Is the space above your brow just a compartment of dust? I didn't teach you that spell so you could use it on whoever you liked! It's defensive only, against the Death Eaters should they find you out!"

Regulus jumped to his feet, panting furiously. "I had to use it, it had to seem real!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Idiot boy!"

Regulus ducked when Severus moved to slap him in the head. Regulus growled, "You have no idea what task I have, the burden I carry! I just saved my family!"

"By what? Attempting to murder your brother?"

" _Yes_."

Severus stopped. He looked at Regulus oddly. "What did the Dark Lord say to you?"

Regulus swallowed thickly, still trying to catch his breath. Finally he said, "He—he didn't like what he saw in my mind during the initiation, I-I didn't Occlude well enough—and this was what I had to do. I had to do whatever it took to save my family."

"And trying to kill Sirius would prove your loyalty," Severus concluded. Regulus nodded grimly, looking away.

The anger slowly dissipated from Severus's body, leaving him weary. "Why  _Sectumsempra?_  There are other curses, Regulus."

"It's the darkest spell I know," said Regulus. It was Severus who looked away then. "Besides," Regulus continued, "I knew the countercurse. And you weren't far behind me. I wouldn't have…you know..."

"Right," said Severus reluctantly. The idea of saving Sirius Black's life didn't much tickle his fancy, but he realized he would have done it anyway. "Right, well. Let's go get cleaned up."

**xxx**

In the Hospital wing, Hermione stared at Sirius steadfastly.

There was solitude in her gaze; a sharp, detached coldness that made the ends of Sirius's hairs rise. She was silently daring him to challenge her, and it left him speechless.

The door to the infirmary opened and the sweeping figure of Madam Pomfrey strode to Sirius's bedside.

"I see you're awake," she said briskly as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "The fever's broken. Everything else seems to be in order…"

"How long have I been in here?" Sirius asked.

"A few hours." Pomfrey paused in her hurried movements and patted his shoulder comfortingly. "You're alright, dear. Drink this and then soon you can head back to your dormitory. There's plenty still of time until dinner. I suspect Dumbledore has quite a few things to say tonight..."

Sirius nodded dazedly as Pomfrey pressed a cup in his hands, and it was only then that he realized Hermione was no longer sitting beside him; some time after Pomfrey barged in the room, she'd slipped away.

"Drink," Pomfrey ordered.

He raised the cup and drank deeply, licking his lips at the pleasant taste.

"Good," she took the cup from him and started cleaning up. "Now rest."

Sirius wanted to protest but found he lacked the energy to. His body was still worn out from the beating it took today, and there were so many questions in his head that he exhausted his mind into a slumber.

Somewhere between sleeping and waking Sirius dreamed of a dark globe looming over him, and he cracked his eyes open to see the globe turn into a head of raven hair and pale grey eyes hovering by his bed.

"Reggie?" he croaked, blinking sleepily. Regulus's eyes widened and suddenly he disappeared. Sirius closed his eyes and turned over, falling asleep again.

The third time he woke up Madame Pomfrey was cleaning up the table next to his bed. "How're you feeling?" she prompted.

Sirius assessed himself for a moment. "Much better."

"Excellent. Your things are ready for you at the end of the bed, and you are free to leave."

Sirius watched Pomfrey disappear in the back room before staring up at the ceiling in confusion. So much had happened in such a short span of time, and Sirius was still reeling with questions. Had he dreamed Regulus was beside him? Or had he actually paid him a visit?

Shaking his head in confusion, Sirius slid off the bed and changed into his freshly laundered clothes, then wandered to the door. He passed by rows and rows of identical beds that were all occupied, soft groans and labored breath coming from behind the curtains. His heart sank, but he was glad they were unharmed for the most part...they were alive and well, and that was what mattered. He reached for the doorknob and turned it.

When the door to the infirmary swung open, Sirius was surprised to see James, Peter, and Remus waiting around the door. Peter was sitting down while James and Remus were leaning against the wall, and glancing up when Sirius stepped through the door.

"Sirius!" Remus rushed to Sirius and drew him into a tight hug. Sirius welcomed the embrace as James and Peter joined in, smiling warmly at the explosion of affection lifting his heart.

"Why were you waiting outside?" Sirius asked as they pulled away.

James scowled. "Pomfrey kicked us out. Said we were disturbing you."

"Which we weren't," said Peter irritably. "We were just sitting around."

"I think the vulgar language might've set her off," Remus added delicately, to which James snorted.

"I'd say, haven't heard you talk like that since we found you and—"

"So what happened in there?" Remus asked Sirius concernedly, quickly cutting off James.

Sirius's smile dropped, his thoughts conflicted again. "Well, I woke up. Didn't know what the hell was going on…then Pomfrey came and gave me a tonic and set me out. I'm not…entirely sure what's going on, to be honest."

He didn't know why he omitted Hermione from his explanation, but something stopped him from mentioning her. Remus nodded. "Let's head back to the dormitory and we'll tell you the rest there."

They walked briskly to Gryffindor tower, the corridors mostly empty as their footsteps echoed along the walls. Sirius winced as twinges of pain sparked down his torso with every step, but he pressed his mouth firmly in a line and tried controlling his slight limp. Once in the privacy of their dorm, James helped Sirius into his bed and then plopped down right next to him. Remus and Peter followed, making a semicircle of curious friends around Sirius.

"So," Sirius began tentatively, "can you, I guess, tell me what happened? From the beginning? Hermione and I tried finding you in Hogsmeade, we tried getting you out—"

"Slow down," said James. "We'll tell you what we know. Mind you, it's not much." He briefly exchanged glances with Remus and Peter before turning back to Sirius. "We went off to Honeydukes like we planned to, walked around a bit…but something felt off. I can't explain it, but we just had this feeling…"

"I felt it too," Sirius nodded. "It's what made us start looking for you."

"Yeah, well, didn't do us much good, did it?" Remus scowled. "Next thing we knew we heard screams and sounds of spells being thrown. We went outside and saw one of the buildings was set on fire."

"And then we tried to get back to Hogwarts but the barman at the Hog's Head pulled us in—and a quite a lot of other students, actually—and made us hide out in the cellar," James finished. "We were let out when McGonagall showed up. I've never seen her so furious."

Sirius nodded, letting everything they said sink in. "Did you have to fight off any Death Eaters?"

"No, but I would've liked to show 'em some of the hexes I know," said James fiercely. "It was bloody overrun with them! Why the hell would they target Hogsmeade?"

"Why not?" asked Remus. "Think about it. Where else is there a dense population of witches and wizards at this time of year? The village is always bustling and full, and it's the perfect place for a group of people to slip in and wreak havoc."

"Plus it's really close to Hogwarts, and we all know You-Know-Who doesn't exactly hide his hatred for Dumbledore and the school," Peter added knowingly.

"You fought them off, though," James said quietly, and a hush fell over the group. "Hermione told us. We saw you in the Hospital wing."

Sirius swallowed. "Did…did she tell you what happened?"

"She was really shaken when she walked through Hogwarts," said Remus mutedly. "I heard from some fifth years that she strode through the front doors with your body suspended in the air, gliding next to her…she headed straight to the infirmary and Dumbledore was on her in an instant."

"When we finally got to see you, she told us what had happened," James continued quickly. "How the Death Eaters came out of nowhere and started attacking, how both of you fought them off and tried sending everyone to safety. And then you got hit by a dark curse..."

"And she saved me," Sirius finished quietly. "I know that part."

"But it doesn't make sense," said Peter, looking quite unnerved, "Hermione is supposed to be in on these things, right? Snape and Regulus, they're part of that now, they would've said something, especially if they were planning to attack. Why didn't they tell her?"

James widened his eyes. "D'you think this means they aren't really on her side? That git—should've known you could never trust him—"

"Hermione knew they would be at Hogsmeade," Sirius interrupted.

James and Remus were stunned. Peter spluttered, "How do you know that? W-why didn't she say anything?"

"She told me on our way to Hogsmeade, when we broke off from you. She said there'd be a meeting. Not  _this_." Sirius shifted in discomfort as he took in the worried looks around him.

"Then one thing is certain," said Remus, looking shaken. "Someone was lying."

**xxx**

Sirius did not see Hermione until dinner. The announcement was made earlier that attendance to the feast was mandatory, just as Pomfrey had suspected. When she arrived she immediately took her regular seat next to Sirius, giving him an encouraging smile and asking how he was. Something in her eyes warned him not to ask any questions from before, so he looked at her for a moment before muttering that he felt fine.

Dumbledore was seated at the head of the table, remaining silent until all the food and plates were cleared away. A hush fell over the students as they watched him expectantly.

He rose slowly and walked around the table until he stood directly before them.

"As many of us already know, Hogsmeade was attacked today."

His watery blue eyes scanned the Great Hall calmly, lingering on the Gryffindor table for a moment before continuing. "Thanks to the help of Hogsmeade's staff and patrons, as well as several brave upperclassmen, there were no severe fatalities. In light of these events, however, I feel I must tell you what you may have already guessed." His kindly expression grew stern. "Dark forces have been gathering and growing stronger by the day.  _The Daily Prophet_  has told us some of the tragedies resulting from it, but this is only the beginning. It is not safe anymore. There are people who will try to hurt you without reason, and I must emphasize that you  _must_  be ready."

A chilling disquiet stretched between them, and finally Dumbledore's gaze softened and he smiled a little. "I can assure you, however, that while you are in Hogwarts, no harm shall come to you. The choices you make beyond this are your own."

Confused murmurs spread around the Great Hall when Dumbledore stepped back and resumed his seat at the high table.

"What d'you suppose he means by the choices we make?" Sirius asked under his breath as they began filing out of the Great Hall.

Hermione's mouth pressed thinly, muttering, "I wouldn't know."

**xxx**

But of course she did.

Several hours earlier when Hermione had stormed through the entrance hall with Sirius's motionless body gliding beside her, Dumbledore had appeared before her in an instant.

"We'll take it from here, Miss Granger," he said quietly as Madam Pomfrey rushed towards them and gazed at Sirius with unveiled perplexity.

"He was hit with a dark curse," Hermione informed Pomfrey. "A sort of—of slicing curse that cuts every inch of your body. I managed to reverse the effects but he's still really hurt, the internal damage—" Hermione broke off, pressing her lips in a firm line that suddenly began to tremble.

"Thank you, dear," replied Pomfrey gently, raising her wand. Hermione did not protest as Sirius's body was gently floated towards the Hospital wing, but felt a hand stop her when she tried to follow.

"I need to be there with him," said Hermione firmly as she looked up at Dumbledore.

"He will be there when you return. Right now I must ask you some questions."

Irrational fury bubbled inside her but she quickly stamped it down. If she let him see how emotionally compromised she was, he would surely stop her from seeing Sirius even sooner. Nodding curtly, she followed Dumbledore as he led her to a winged gargoyle.

"Licorice wand," he called, and the gargoyle sprung to the side, revealing a set of spiraling stairs. They walked up in silence until they reached Dumbledore's office.

"Please sit, Miss Granger."

Hermione carefully sat down on the chair before Dumbledore's desk. The last time she was here was when he sorted her privately into Gryffindor, giving her his condolences on the death of her family. She never realized how much she disliked being in his office until now.

As if reading her thoughts, Dumbledore mentioned, "For years I've tried making the Headmaster's office a kinder room to be in, but I'm afraid my efforts went to waste. Even I find it too quiet in here."

Hermione said nothing. Dumbledore's pleasant gaze did not waver. "Several professors and Hogsmeade workers recounted the events that transpired today, but I would like to know what happened while you were there."

Hermione shifted nervously. "We were attacked, sir."

Dumbledore nodded, and she continued.

"We—Sirius and I were looking for our friends when they came. It was very sudden, and I don't know what happened first—just that there was a fire and curses were being thrown by figures in black cloaks. Death Eaters, sir."

Dumbledore nodded again, as if already knowing this. "And then Mr. Black was cursed."

"Yes, we were fighting them off and trying to get everyone back up to Hogwarts, the third-years were really frightened…" she looked away, unable to take Dumbledore's penetrating gaze anymore. "One snuck up on us and he attacked Sirius. I jinxed him and then immediately brought Sirius to the castle. That's all."

Dumbledore nodded again, taking in her words carefully. "Did you notice the cloaked figures when you arrived at Hogsmeade?"

Hermione frowned in thought. "No, I didn't see them when we reached Hogsmeade. They just came…without warning."

Dumbledore didn't reply as Hermione's frown deepened. Now that the adrenaline of the fight and rescuing Sirius was dissipating, Hermione thought back to the Death Eater attack. Severus hadn't mentioned this would happen, not even a hint of worry about it—did it mean he hadn't expected it? Surely if it was this dangerous, he wouldn't…he wouldn't have let her come… _surely_ …

But the hooded figure that cursed Sirius appeared in her mind, and Hermione's jaw tightened grimly. The spell that Severus Snape had invented in his sixth year at Hogwarts, the same spell Harry had used on Draco Malfoy during a duel in  _his_  sixth year, had now been used on Sirius.

"Is there something troubling you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione blinked, looking back at Dumbledore.

"No sir, just—just worried about Sirius."

Dumbledore scrutinized Hermione for a moment, as if hoping she would voice the things left unsaid in her words. "I hope you know that anything discussed in this office will not leave these four walls. I know your time at Hogwarts since your arrival has not been easy, and you may rest assured that should you need help, you are always welcome here. The choice belongs to you."

Hermione was taken aback. "Thank you, sir. I'll keep that in mind."

Dumbledore nodded dismissively. "That is all for today."

Looking at Dumbledore oddly, Hermione rose from the chair and left his office. As she walked to the Hospital wing she wondered if Dumbledore did more than just guess at what was going through her mind.

Throughout Dumbledore's speech at dinner and then at his parting words, Hermione was certain Dumbledore knew something more of what happened at Hogsmeade. At Sirius's question she answered vaguely, knowing that revealing anything now would not be good for either of them. But they had to talk, and soon.

The hairs at the back of her neck prickled, and Hermione had the feeling that she was being watched. Instinctively her head turned to the right and she caught Severus's gaze, whose stare was boring through her with a wide, meaningful look. Scowling, Hermione turned away and grabbed Sirius's arm.

"Meet me at midnight in the common room."

Sirius frowned instantly and began to protest but they fell to deaf ears, for Hermione was already weaving her way through the crowd of students and shifting closer to the Slytherin end of the hall. She glanced around impatiently until she caught Severus's eyes again, and she looked at him darkly and inclined her head before turning back around and marching out of the Great Hall.

She walked along the mass of students that were gathering towards the grand staircase, but slipped quietly away from them and rounded a corner. She paused briefly to look behind her, and surely enough a head of dark hair was slowly parting from the crowd of students heading towards the dungeons. Hermione quickly sprinted forward and darted into the nearest empty classroom.

The door opened quietly a few minutes later, a dark head peeking inside, and Hermione grabbed a fistful of green robes before hauling him inside the classroom.

Severus staggered as Hermione flicked her wand and locked the door. Wide eyes flickered to the end of the wand, swallowing when it didn't lower.

"Why  _sectumsempra_?" Her voice was cutting and even. "Of all the spells, why that one?"

"Well this is déjà vu," Severus panted, gobsmacked. "How did you know what it was?"

"I'm from the future, Severus."

She could see the questions swimming in his eyes, but he swallowed convulsively and shook his head. "It wasn't me."

"I'm sorry?"

"It wasn't me," Severus repeated. He backed away when Hermione's grip tightened on her wand, but he gritted his teeth and said, "Read me."

"Who was it then?" Hermione ignored his last words. "Considering the timeline, I'd say you just came up with that spell a few weeks ago. Wanted to try it out, I suppose."

Severus was furious. "You think I'm not bloody upset by this? I wasn't told—and bloody Black—" Hermione's eyes narrowed, and Severus added quickly, "Regulus. It was Regulus who used my spell. I didn't know he would use it against Sirius."

"…Why did he do it?"

Severus sighed, glancing down and slowly slumping onto a chair. "It's complicated." He rubbed his eyes tiredly, propping his elbows on the desk in front of him and pressing his palms against his forehead. When he looked up at Hermione, he was shocked at the darkness in her gaze.

"You don't believe me," he said resentfully.

"I'm angry," Hermione snapped. "And you need to give me straight answers, Severus. From the beginning."

Severus glared back at her. "Why don't you just read me, Hermione, since it seems anything I say will do little to improve your trust in me."

"I didn't think I needed to use  _legilimens_  on you to believe you, Severus," Hermione scowled. "For god's sake, Severus, just tell me what happened! Why did the Death Eaters decide to attack Hogsmeade? Did you know about it? And why did Regulus try to kill Sirius? Yes, I know exactly what that spell can do; I know how dangerous it is! The fact that you still came up with it, even now—" she broke off, swallowing hard.

Severus's hands clenched into fists as he watched her struggle internally. "It was supposed to be just a meeting," he said quietly. "If it was anything dangerous I would've told you. You  _know_  that."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly, nodding after a beat. Slowly she walked forward and sat in the chair across him. "I know," she said finally, looking very tired. "I know you wouldn't put us deliberately in danger. I know that."

Severus shifted a little. "I didn't think—we weren't told what would happen once we got there. We gathered in a small room that skirted the village where the rest of the Death Eaters were waiting for us. They said this was our initiation."

"Initiation?" Hermione repeated, frowning. "Didn't that already happen in the summer?"

"No, that was different. This was a test of loyalty," Severus looked down at his hands, flexing them. "The attack on Hogsmeade was our rite of passage."

Hermione looked at Severus searchingly, hundred questions flitting through her. Their attention both snapped to the door when it slowly opened.

"Lily?" Hermione said in surprise.

"I thought I saw someone come this way," Lily frowned. "Come on, get back to your rooms. I'll be starting prefect rounds soon."

Severus nodded curtly, his eyes not meeting Lily's. He strode out of the room without looking back, leaving Hermione to trail behind him. As she passed Lily, she caught Hermione's arm gently.

"Are you alright?" she asked, worry visible in her gaze.

Hermione smiled a little. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

Lily smiled back. "I won't be done with rounds until late, but are you up for a cuppa with me tomorrow? Being the weekend and all, we could have a late morning in…"

A rush of warmth filled Hermione. "Yes," she said gratefully. "Yes, I think I'd really like that."

**xxx**

Sirius tossed around his bed fitfully, his eyes wandering to his watch every few minutes. His stomach twisted in knots, feeling almost jittery with anxiety. He glanced over to James and Peter's beds, envying their still silence.

He looked at his watch again and decided it was nearly time enough, and slowly sat up. He winced as pain radiated in his abdomen. Pomfrey had patched him up splendidly, but there were still things that the body had to do on its own, and feeling residual pain from being slashed three hundred times was hardly unusual. Still, it was irritating as he had to stifle groans while putting on a warm night robe. Grabbing his wand from under his pillow, Sirius quietly opened the door to the boys' dormitory and crept downstairs.

The common room was silent and the fireplace was long since extinguished, but he knew he was not alone. There was a silhouette by an armchair facing the window, and it shifted at Sirius's arrival. Hermione's head popped out from the armchair.

"You're early," she noted.

Sirius shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Hermione nodded, smiling faintly. "I know the feeling."

He watched as Hermione stood up and brushed her night robe, shivering a little. "Let's go, then."

Sirius started. "Sorry?"

Hermione gave him a dry look. "You didn't think we'd stay here, did you?"

"Erm…"

Hermione shook her head and went towards the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was snoring loudly when they crept out, and Sirius closed the door softly behind him.

"Where are we going?" Sirius whispered, and Hermione shushed him scoldingly, motioning for him to follow. They were still on the seventh floor, Sirius realized, as they weaved stealthily along the corridors. When Hermione stopped in front of a familiar wall, understanding dawned on Sirius.

Hermione was standing still before the wall, her eyes closed in concentration. She breathed in evenly, and slowly the wall began to change, and a white wooden door came into form. Hermione swallowed and went to turn the knob, and Sirius caught the tremble in her fingers.

Sirius glanced around and saw an unexpectedly tidy room. It was comfortable and clean, with white linen bed sheets on a bed and a desk shoved in front of a window. The walls were lined with bookcases, and Sirius wandered over to one nearest to the door. There were dozens of books with titles he did not recognize and authors he'd never heard of before.

"Interesting room," he said as he walked over to the set of chairs in front of the desk where Hermione was sitting.

"It was mine," Hermione replied. "Before I came to the Potters."

Sirius had guessed this, and nodded as he took a seat.

She lifted her wand and flicked it every few seconds silently. When she was done she carefully put away her wand stared at him resolutely, unflinching, waiting.

"What did you just do?"

"Silencing charm," Hermione said evenly. "And a few wards. I know the Room of Requirement already takes care of that for us, but I don't want to take any chances. I don't want us to be disturbed during this."

Sirius looked at her warily. "What is this about?"

Hermione's smile was forced. "Ironic, really. The time I finally pluck up the courage to tell you the truth, you want nothing to do with it." She lowered her gaze briefly, as if mentally preparing herself.

Sirius glanced idly around and perked up when he saw several picture frames sitting at the far end of the desk.

"Little Hermione!" Sirius exclaimed as he picked one up. It looked to be before Hermione went to a Wizarding school, wearing a muggle school uniform. There was another one sitting closer to him, as if frequently picked up and cleaned. Hermione said nothing as he reached for it.

Sirius was still smiling as he looked at it, but it faded the longer he stared at the photograph. There were three people in the picture; Hermione stood beside a boy with flaming red hair, and the third person—

Sirius scowled when he saw the Gryffindor ties and the Hogwarts emblem.

"What—what is this?" said Sirius in shock. "This can't be—you're wearing a Hogwarts uniform. You can't be more than twelve here, and…and this boy—"

"Looks a lot like James, doesn't he?" Hermione finished for him, seemingly unperturbed by his questions. It was as if she was resigned, making Sirius even more uneasy.

"What is this, Hermione?"

Hermione looked Sirius in the eye.

"In the summer of 1971, you and your mother were in Diagon Alley. Your mother paid a visit to Knockturn Alley as you sat along the edge of the entrance, and it was there that you saw a girl."

Sirius's heart was beating fast, a feeling of dread coming over him. Hermione continued, "You recognized me as that girl last year. That night on the train where we first met properly. The girl you hadn't seen in five years, someone who hasn't aged a day since."

"Hermione…"

Hermione shook her head warningly. "Just listen." Sirius nodded weakly. "My name is Hermione Granger. I'm eighteen years old, and I was born on 19 September, 1979. Last summer I woke up in James Potter's home and realized fate had written me to be his adopted sister."

Sirius blinked several times incredulously. "You're barking."

"Am I? You knew from the start there was something off about me. Your instincts told you that you'd seen me before. Last Christmas you saw the scar on my knee and recognized it immediately, you  _know_  I've been hiding something for a long time. And you were right. This is the truth. I—" Hermione broke off, but forced herself to keep going. "I am a time traveler. I used the Sands of Destiny to go twenty years into the past,  _your_ past, to stop Voldemort from rising to power."

She could see she was overwhelming Sirius, but he did not utter a word. He sat in the chair of her old bedroom quietly, looking at her and looking away and glancing around the room. His bewildered expression was settling into one of curiosity, and he swallowed thickly.

"What are the Sands of Destiny?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

Hermione blinked in surprise, then replied in a rush, "It's red sand in a Time-Turner used to travel further back than the normal Sands of Time allow. Dumbledore gave it to me at the end of my sixth year after he failed to use it correctly, he made a kind of paradox I think, and his life was ending—" at Sirius's perplexed look, Hermione slowed down. "Dumbledore used the Time-Turner before me to look into the future instead of the past, and saw Voldemort's triumph. He asked me to help him change that."

Sirius absorbed her words slowly. "But the Potters adopting you, your parents dying before the start of last year, all these things happened. How could a Time-Turner change that?"

"It's not like a regular Time-Turner," Hermione explained, though still bewildered at Sirius's response. This conversation was not at all in the direction she'd predicted it would go. "It's just as the title says; it rewrites destiny.  _My_ destiny. It changed fate and time to fit me into this decade. Everything that happened as a result of my arrival is real. In this time, the Potters knew my family and adopted me after they were killed. The Granger family is dead, preventing my parents from ever giving birth to me the year I should've been born."

Sirius closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his face into his hands. It was a lot to take in and Hermione wasn't being particularly gentle about it, but there was no conceivable way to tell someone she was a time traveler without overwhelming them. In another light, and another time, she would've found the ordeal amusing.

"Did you get to say goodbye?" he asked suddenly.

"I—what?"

"Your parents," Sirius dropped his hands and stared at her. "Your friends. Those two boys in that photograph. Did you get to say goodbye before you came here?"

Hermione blinked rapidly. Slowly she shook her head once. "No," she said faintly, "I didn't."

Sirius mouth curved downwards. "Can you ever go back?"

Her heart began to ache as she replied inaudibly, "No. Never."

Genuine pain reflected in Sirius's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Hermione looked at him disbelievingly as he looked away distantly. After several minutes she couldn't hold it in any longer. "That's it?" she blurted, and Sirius returned his focus on her. "After hearing the truth, that's what you had to say?"

"Sorry?" Sirius repeated in confusion.

"You—you believe me? You're just taking what I say as truth?" Hermione said almost accusingly, and Sirius frowned.

"Why would you lie about this?" said Sirius curiously.

"I—" Hermione fretted. "Aren't you going to ask me something? Anything? You're just—you're just sitting there!"

"It almost sounds like you  _want_  me to not believe you," said Sirius bemusedly.

"No, no of course not…" Sirius raised an eyebrow as Hermione gazed at him uncertainly, "I guess, I don't know. I expected something different." She looked down. "I didn't expect you to believe me right away."

"I didn't," Sirius reminded. "I thought you were barking mad at first, but it makes sense. I still have a lot of questions, but…it fits. The thing with seeing you at Diagon Alley, the scar on your knee. Your involvement with bringing the Death Eaters down. It makes sense. Your story is  _mad_ , but I believe you."

When she looked at him again, and saw truth and solidarity reflecting back at her, it was as if an invisible weight lifted from her and made her feel suddenly lightheaded. Telling Severus about herself had been a relief, cathartic even. But this—telling Sirius, without argument, without anger and heat and distrust, without exhausting herself to convince him she wasn't a threat or a danger, without the fear of complete rejection and losing a friend again—this was something entirely different. It was something new.

It was who Sirius was now. Someone who believed in her unconditionally.

She began to cry.

"Whoa, whoa, Hermione!" Sirius immediately jumped from his chair and hovered unsurely by her side, hands fidgeting as if wanting to reach out to her but afraid of doing so. He settled with just kneeling on the floor beside her and gripping the back of her chair as breathless sobs broke through her.

"Please don't cry," Sirius implored as he flailed about. He reached out and tentatively patted her back so softly she hardly felt it, but it didn't matter. She would never forget the look of shock on his face when Hermione lifted her head and was smiling so warmly it made his heart leap in his chest.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. As if finally realizing her disposition, Hermione quickly scrubbed her face with her hands, erasing the last of her brief breakdown. Sirius was still watching her worriedly when she turned to him.

"Sorry about that," she said sheepishly. "I don't know what came over me. Haven't cried in ages…it felt nice, though."

"Then you needed it," Sirius replied simply. "There's no need to be sorry for crying."

"I cried too much last year," Hermione said wearily. "I was tired of it. But you might be right, I did need that."

He nodded encouragingly, smiling a little. Sirius glanced down and cleared his throat. "Well," he rose to his feet. "What now?"

Hermione shrugged tiredly. "I guess I should go over the details now. So you know everything. So I can help you…so you can help me." The last part was spoken very softly, and she could feel Sirius staring down at her.

"Then we'd better get to it," said Sirius. "But my bum can't take sitting in that chair much longer. I don't know how you spent your childhood in it."

A laugh bubbled up out of Hermione and she grinned, "Fine, no chairs. The bed should do."

**xxx**

"Blimey," Sirius breathed. It was now well past two in the morning, and Sirius and Hermione were sitting comfortably on the bed, a plate of biscuits between them. They'd taken the liberty of asking for a bigger mattress, and the room accommodated them accordingly.

Hermione had explained everything relatively easily, even telling him about her intervention with Severus, while Sirius listened quietly and asking questions only when she finished her story. Surprisingly, none of them were about events pertaining to his future.

"Harry Potter," Sirius repeated, as if testing the name. A smile lifted the corner of his lips. "Your friendship with the Potters lasted lifetimes. That's incredible."

Hermione beamed. "It  _is_  kind of incredible, isn't it? I mean, this  _fate_  or whatever didn't have to have me as James's sister, but somehow it did. What were the odds?"

"Nah, I think it goes beyond that," said Sirius. "Even if you weren't his sister, and you ended up being, I dunno, Frank Longbottom's cousin, you and James would've still been friends. I'm serious," Sirius grinned when Hermione suppressed a laugh. "Yeah he was a tosspot last year but everyone's a tosspot at fifteen, but we get past that."

"You'd know," Hermione said boldly, and Sirius merely nodded.

"I accept that. God you must've been pulling hairs trying to get through to us. And you're bloody eighteen now! You can do magic whenever you like! When is your birthday again?"

"September," Hermione answered. "And it was hard being here with you guys at first, but I got used to it. You're all so different here, and I think that's what threw me off."

"Are you going to tell them? James, Peter, Remus, Lily?" he asked carefully.

Hermione faltered. "I—I don't know," she admitted ruefully. "I honestly don't. Someday I will. I  _want_ to. But is it safe to tell so many people? It was hard enough telling Severus, let alone you. And look how much danger he's in now."

"We're in danger regardless. Just living right now is dangerous." Sirius said sensibly. "How many horcruxes do you think Voldemort's got left?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, from what I know, there's Helga Hufflepuff's cup, the Slytherin locket, and the Gaunt ring. There's a snake too but I'm not sure when Voldemort makes it a horcrux…and then all that's left is Voldemort himself."

Sirius shivered, unnerved. "How desperate does someone have to be to split his soul into seven pieces?"

"The only thing we can't conquer with magic is death," said Hermione plainly. "Well, that and making food from thin air, but I can't really picture the Dark Lord in a kitchen."

Sirius burst out laughing, and Hermione smiled as she stared up at the ceiling contentedly. A calm silence fell between them, and when it stretched too long Hermione glanced over to Sirius. His brows were furrowed fretfully, as if in deep thought.

"What is it?"

Sirius jumped. "What?"

"That there," Hermione said. "You want to say something, I can tell."

Sirius looked down uneasily, "Er no, not really."

Hermione gave him a stern look. "Sirius."

Sirius looked away again, as if gathering his courage. "You said the Sands of Destiny rewrote history and fate to fit you in this time, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Well…did it ever occur to you that maybe…the same thing happened with Dumbledore?"

Hermione stared at him blankly. "…What?"

"Dumbledore. You said he used that Time-Turner before handing it over to you. He went to the future and saw Voldemort's triumph. But…what if that's just how fate was written by the Time-Turner due to Dumbledore's presence at that time? What if it really wasn't meant to be that way? For all we know, if you had stayed, things could have been different. Harry, he might have won."

His words were met with silence. Hermione's mind had gone blank, Sirius's words washing over her with dread.

"I…I never…"

Sirius looked at Hermione unsurely. "I could be wrong."

Hermione's hands were shaking. She launched off the bed and began pacing, running her hands wildly through her hair. Finally she turned to him with wide, terrified eyes. "Oh my god."

Sirius immediately stilled. "Hermione. Hey, it's okay."

"No," Hermione shook her head violently. "No. No, you're right. It was Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the one who messed with the time stream. It—it had adjusted itself to fit Dumbledore in it, and in that fate it was Voldemort who won. Merlin, what if—what if he was wrong? What if Harry was actually supposed to  _win_? Dumbledore couldn't know for sure, could he?" Sirius didn't reply. "I shouldn't have left. I should have left only when it was certain we'd lost."

She trudged weakly back to the bed and crumpled, her face the expression of agony. Sirius scooted closer to her carefully.

"It doesn't matter now, Hermione. Victory or not, you being here is sparing Harry a lifetime of suffering. It's sparing hundreds of lives from being brutally murdered by Voldemort and his followers. You're stopping him before he can do terrible damage, don't you see?"

"If I succeed," Hermione said numbly. "If I win. And if I don't, Harry will be dumped on the Dursley's doorstep again. Only this time, I won't be there as his friend."

"No," Sirius said bluntly. "I don't believe that. Things are already changing here, and it's because of you. You're going to win this, Hermione. Just look at yesterday!" Sirius shook his head incredulously. "That mad lady made a prophecy about you! And I'm sure that never happened in your proper time."

At the mention of the prophecy, Hermione instantly became alert. "The prophecy," she breathed. "I forgot all about it! Oh...yes, that never happened before, it'd been about Harry when I was in my time. But things have changed…"

"Do you remember what it said?" Sirius questioned.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. But I need to see it again to make sure…god, we need a Pensieve."

"We'll add that to our list of things to do," Sirius said firmly. "For now, you need to focus on what's at hand, right here, right now. Best of all, you're not alone in this anymore."

Hermione snorted lightly. "Certainly not. Who would've thought Severus Snape would be my ally?"

At the mention of Severus's name, Sirius sobered.

"Was it really Regulus who cursed me with that spell?"

Hermione looked away from her hands and back at Sirius. His expression was neutral, but she could the see the turmoil boiling beneath the surface.

"Yes," she said sadly. "Severus told me after dinner when I cornered him."

She started slightly when she heard Sirius chuckle.

"That rat bastard," he said, a fierce smile twisting his face into one of anger. "I thought I dreamt it, but I was wrong. He visited me in the hospital wing."

"He did?"

"Yeah, after you left I saw him standing over me. Ran away the moment I started waking up." He shook his head bitterly. "I don't even know what to make of him anymore."

"There must be reason," Hermione said frustratedly. "Something that made him use that curse on you—you heard what he said right before he cast it, right? He apologized."

"He almost killed me, Hermione," said Sirius calmly.

"I know. It just seems too simple. I was angry before, but I can't help wondering if there's more to this than is being let on. I wish I could ask him."

"Why not ask Snape?"

Hermione chewed her lower lip. "I could. I just…I want to hear it from Regulus."

Sirius looked at Hermione thoughtfully. "We should expect this, though, right? He's a Death Eater. He has expectations to fulfill. We can't assume they'll be easy on us."

"Mm."

Sirius smirked. "Good response."

"Sorry, I'm just tired," Hermione smiled weakly. "We should go to bed."

Sirius nodded in agreement. They left the Room of Requirement (after Sirius did a thorough scour of all her books and pictures, much to Hermione's amusement) and snuck back into their dormitory. Just as they were going to depart, Sirius stopped her before she went up the stairs.

"Hermione," Sirius started, "you've considered being an Animagi, right? From what you've just told me?"

"Yes…?" said Hermione, not knowing where this was going.

"Well, I am one. An Animagus, that is."

"Yes I'm well aware, Sirius."

"So," Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets, "knowing what I do now, I think you're right. You have a big job on your hands, and you could use all the help you can get, even from yourself."

"Meaning?"

"I want to train you."

Hermione's eyebrows flew up. "Really?"

Sirius shifted awkwardly but nodded solemnly. "Yeah, really. You need to be able to defend yourself in any way, and being an Animagus can really be useful. I know you already have an affinity for it, right?"

"Yes, that's what McGonagall told me," Hermione recalled. "I looked up loads of stuff about it last year but just never got the chance to try it out."

"Well now you're going to start," said Sirius firmly. "Every day we're going to practice until you get it. It usually takes years to achieve, but I think you can do it."

Hermione smiled, bouncing nervously on her toes. "Yes, yes I would like that! Thank you," she said earnestly, making Sirius turn pink and shrug.

"Don't thank me yet." His voiced lowered an octave as his expression sharpened. "You're not alone in this, okay? Not even with the gathering and destroying horcruxes. Not with dealing with whatever shit's going on in that brilliant head of yours. Me, Snape, your friends, we're all here for you. I'm going to help you."

Hermione nodded as a lump formed in her throat. Swallowing it down, she whispered, "Okay."

Sirius smiled. "Good night, Hermione."

When Hermione slid into bed, she stared out the window and gazed at the night sky, wondering what it was like to be as old as the stars.

**xxx**

Lily Evans woke up every morning with a purpose.

Usually it went something like having breakfast, doing rounds for her prefect duties, attend classes, eat lunch in the library while studying with Alice and Amelia, more classes, dinner, and then study until she couldn't read another word. It was a good system, a  _reliable_  system that kept her at the top of the class, and Lily liked it this way.

This morning should have been the same, but when Lily's eyes opened at the first light of dawn, she knew today would be different.

Last night she went into a fitful slumber as the events at Hogsmeade plagued her mind. She'd been one of the few students who stayed out to fight the Death Eaters before getting pulled inside a shop for safety, but not without dragging two frightened third year Slytherins with her. And as she sat huddled with her classmates, young and old, she knew there had to be something more than this.

Hermione was still sleeping when Lily hopped out of bed, and Lily stretched her arms high over her head as she headed for the lavatory. Several girls were already awake and dressed, some standing sleepily in front of the mirror while holding a toothbrush halfway to their mouths, and Lily shook one awake who'd begun to snore with the brush hanging from her mouth.

By the time she was out Hermione was wide awake and dressed for the day. Lily was still contemplating on the  _more_ and the  _how_  of what she should do when Hermione strode up beside her.

"Ready for that cuppa?" said Hermione with an easy smile.

"Gods yes, let's go. I could go for twelve cuppas and a hippogriff right now," Lily said darkly and Hermione stifled a laugh. They ate breakfast quickly and brought mugs of tea back to the dormitory. While Lily loved the school week, she enjoyed the weekend even more; the small reprieve from a week's worth of grueling work returned some semblance of sanity to her. And right now, her brain was sifting through ideas rapidly of what the next plan of action should be.

Lily was lost in deep thought when Hermione nudged her arm. "Is something wrong?"

Lily looked up from the mug in her hands to Hermione, concern written all over her. She opened her mouth to dismiss it, but stopped.

"Yes," she said plainly. "Something is very wrong." At Hermione's inquisitive look, she continued. "What happened at Hogsmeade has made me realize something. We're totally defenseless out there. We know defensive spells, but yesterday…" Lily pressed her lips in a thin line. "We were useless and outnumbered. The third years especially didn't stand a chance. How is that right?"

Hermione was speechless. Lily ploughed on, "I'm not saying that what we're learning at Hogwarts isn't good enough. I think we need something beyond the classroom setting, where grades don't matter, to practice and learn more defensive spells. We need to help ourselves and train ourselves for what's out there, now more than ever."

"What are you saying?" asked Hermione warily.

Lily lifted her chin. "I think we need to start a defense club."

**xxx**

"Unbelievable," James said in wonder as he sidled in the cramped classroom. Lily rolled her eyes and pointedly looked away from him. "Lily Evans, the top student at Hogwarts, abusing her power as a prefect and smuggling in a hoard of teenagers to a classroom?  _After hours_? Have I stepped in a third dimension?"

"You will soon if you keep that up," Lily retorted. James smiled and shook his head, walking over to Remus and Peter. Hermione rushed over to her and nervously wrung her hands.

"We have about fifty as of now," she said in a hushed voice, though visibly excited. "And from all houses. There's a good bunch of Slytherins here, too."

"I noticed. Some are in my astronomy class," Lily informed, smiling mysteriously. "Very friendly."

Hermione wasn't sure if she was joking or not, unable to read anything from Lily's impassive face. When two Slytherin girls sauntered up to them, Hermione held her breath.

"Interesting gathering, Evans," a blonde-haired girl said coolly. "Hope you don't mind I brought some of my other friends with me."

"Not at all, Stacy. Anybody is welcome if they're interested," Lily replied agreeably. Stacy nodded and walked back with her friend to the group of Slytherins. Hermione watched the exchange and furrowed her brows.

"Was that some kind of test?"

Lily snorted. "Doubtful. Merilla Stacy is the serious type, but she's really fun when you get to know her."

When it looked like no one else would be coming, Hermione stuck her head out of the classroom and glanced around carefully before shutting the door. Swishing her wand and incanting a Silencing charm, the room fell into a hush as she resumed her place next to Lily.

Hermione nodded encouragingly, and Lily took a deep breath. She turned to the students before her.

"Hopefully most of you know why you're here today," Lily began. "Especially after what happened at Hogsmeade."

"We know," a Ravenclaw boy said. "But why couldn't this meeting happen during school time? Like a proper club?"

"It will, once it's settled we're starting this," Lily assured. "I wanted to keep this quiet first."

"What is it exactly you're planning to start?" Sirius asked from the back of the room.

Lily straightened, composing herself calmly and with purpose. "I want to start a defense club for students who wish to learn beyond the classroom setting. Hogwarts has taught us well, but after what we witnessed at Hogsmeade, we're in no way prepared to fight actual battles against those who will try to hurt us." She paused, looking around. "As of today, there are still ninety-four students in the Hospital wing. A lot of them are our age, a lot are much younger. The point is, we need to be able to defend ourselves against what's out there,  _especially_  now. Dumbledore told us just last week that it's not safe anymore, that what we do beyond the teachings of Hogwarts is our choice.  _This_ is my choice."

There was a general murmur of assent, and Hermione looked at Lily with pride. Lily inherently had a way with words, her kindness mixed with fierce determination and inspired others to believe in her and stand by her.

"And who will be teaching us?" a Hufflepuff boy sneered. "You?  _Her_?" he pointed to Hermione.

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Yes. Hermione already knows loads of spells beyond what we've learned so far. She could do wandless magic when she came to Hogwarts. You're lucky you have the chance to learn from her."

Hermione shifted a little, a little overwhelmed by Lily's confidence in her and the amount of curious stares directed her way, but Hermione didn't shy away from the attention. "It won't be just us. Anyone who wants to teach can teach. What we need is practice and precision, and we definitely need to know how to do silent spells. You won't stand a chance against a Death Eater if you're shouting exactly what you'll be using against them."

"Is that what this is?" a Gryffindor girl piped up. "An army against the Death Eaters?"

"Anyone against the Death Eaters is already part of any army," Merilla Stacy said irritably. "I know _I_  don't want to be helpless at the hands of one like my sister was last week." She looked at Lily firmly. "Sign me up, Evans."

Lily smiled and nodded to Hermione. Hermione felt a flutter of excitement and nostalgia when she whipped out a scroll from her pocket and spread it on a table at the front of the room. "Anyone who wants to join will sign their name here," said Lily . "I'm going work on getting this club to normal club hours and approved by the school. Although it won't be under the assumption that we'll be practicing defensive spells."

"Why not?" asked James.

"We don't know who's already part of the Death Eaters here," said Lily quietly. "I hate to think it, but we all know it's happened and there's no point pretending otherwise. I don't want word getting out that Hogwarts is building up an army or something. That's really not what we're aiming for and we don't want that attention."

"What should we call the club?" asked Alice as people began lining up to sign the parchment.

Lily sighed. "I'm not sure. Something far from what we're doing and wouldn't get much attention. If anyone has an idea, now's the time to say it."

Hermione froze then, her eyes wide with realization. "I have the perfect name!" she exclaimed. Scrambling to her bag and pulling out another piece of parchment, Hermione scribbled furiously and thrust the paper at Lily. Lily frowned as she grasped the paper, but as her eyes roved over the words hastily scratched on the parchment, a broad smile broke across her face.

"We have a name for our club," Lily announced as she rolled up the parchment in her hands, "'The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare'!"

**xxx**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for the support and feedback I've gotten for this fic! You guys are incredible and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> A massive thank-you to my best friend Hinatas for beta'ing this chapter flawlessly, being extremely supportive, and making this experience even more fun for me!


	18. Bitter Work

**Chapter 18**

_Bitter Work_

A cold front swept across Britain, the crisp remnants of autumn replaced by a new wave of bone-deep chill. The trees were now bare, gnarled and winding branches twisting along a quiet, sleepy road in Little Hangleton.

A manor stood atop a hill that overlooked the little village, its windows boarded shut with vines curling over once-handsome brick walls. A dim light flickered in the highest window where the boards were broken, slapping against the glass at every gust of wind.

A pale hand deftly shot out a wand at the window, and immediately the noise silenced.

In the attic, two other men in the room flinched at the movement. One was fidgeting ever so slightly, his forehead shining with sweat, while the other merely moved his long, silvery blond hair behind his shoulder. The smaller man wiped his forehead and attempted to straighten himself, only to jump in fright when two narrow slits of piercing eyes faced him once more.

"Would you repeat that again for me, Amycus?"

Amycus Carrow swallowed. "One of them—one of the new recruits used a dark curse on his brother during the initiation. Regulus Black."

"Interesting you know this, very interesting, as you weren't even present during the initiation, were you not?" Voldemort said coldly. Amycus shivered imperceptibly, his body going stiff. "Yes, the Dark Lord knows what you try to conceal."

"N-no, my lord, I was detained. I did arrive at Hogsmeade shortly after the initiation began, though—"

Voldemort looked away from him, inspecting his wand carefully. A bolt of fear went through Amycus, dreading that the wand tip would soon be pointed between his eyes and that would be the end of him, yet it was not so. Amycus appeared visibly relieved when Voldemort's attention shifted away from him.

"You confirm this incidence, Lucius?"

Lucius lifted his chin. "Yes, my lord. I witnessed it myself. Sirius Black was as good as dead, had he not been taken to the castle. Regulus has proven himself most…loyal, to you and your teachings."

"Do I detect a note of jealousy?" asked Voldemort silkily, his eyes bright with amusement.

Lucius said nothing, knowing it was wiser to keep his words to himself. Voldemort moved away from them, waving his hand abruptly. "Dismissed."

Exchanging glances, Amycus and Lucius swiftly left the old muggle residence, leaving the dark lord alone in the room. After hearing two affirmative  _cracks_ , he reached in his pocket and retrieved two delicate pieces of jewelry, setting them on a worn and rickety writing desk.

The flames from the fireplace cast red and orange shadows on a small ring with a stone encrusted inside the gold band, a faint, unusual silvery line running it. Next to it was a locket. The Dark Lord's long nail traced the caricature of a green snake that wound itself on the front, reflecting amber and green onto his fingers. He felt it reverberate against his touch familiarly. His lips curled in a sneer, and he pointed his wand at the ring. A crackle of electricity burst from the tip and the ring spun wildly where it stood, a loud shrieking noise erupting from the stone.

He pulled his wand away, and the sound died. He raised his wand higher and banished the ring, and it disappeared instantly.

Voldemort turned his attention to the locket. This curse would be more elaborate, but nothing a Dark Lord could not do…

It would be tested, of course; this particular one required it. And as Voldemort pointed his wand at the locket, smiling in satisfaction, he knew who he would go to….

**xxx**

Hermione grimaced as sharp pain erupted from her abdomen.

Something had changed—either from the way they carried themselves around each other, to the way they walked together, fluid and warm and simplistic; it was inexplicable. It was something different, something ungraspable about them no one could quite place but were certain had happened.

On a subconscious level Hermione felt it too. She was smiling again, the kind that came from the heart, mostly due to something Sirius had said or done. Now that she could speak to Sirius freely, it was as if a barrier had shattered between them, and since then it had become easy to talk with each other. She found she quite liked talking to Sirius; his humor and his infectious grins were becoming difficult to deny.

It was lunch time, and Sirius was leading her to the seventh floor, walking briskly up the steps as Hermione puffed behind him.

"Come, we haven't got much time!" Sirius threw a glance behind him exasperatedly.

"It's not—my—fault—" Hermione panted, clutching her stomach, "you said—you said—eat quickly, and now it hurts—"

Sirius shook his head and slowed down a bit, waiting for her to catch up with him. "Which is why I also suggested you should just eat  _later_ ," he replied smoothly, and Hermione shot him a glare.

When they reached the seventh floor, Sirius and Hermione walked hurriedly to the wall that led to the Room of Requirement. This time it was Sirius who stood before it, motioning for Hermione to step back. The wall began shifting and changing until a door materialized, and Sirius opened it immediately.

Hermione darted inside and shut the door. "Nice room," she commented.

"It's the one James, Peter, and I used when we practiced transforming ourselves," he shrugged. It was a square room with soft blue carpeting and a few chairs at the end of the room next to a fireplace, as well as a table with a little pitcher of water. A punching bag was stationed on the side of the room as well.

"What's that for?" Hermione asked.

"For your frustration," said Sirius mildly. "There might have been some, er, casualties to the furnishings while we practiced—"

"You mean you broke stuff when you were angry," Hermione said dryly.

"Hence the bag," Sirius answered testily. He ushered her to the center of the room and shook his body out, loosening the tension in his muscles.

"Now," Sirius began firmly. "This shit isn't easy."

"I guessed so."

"What we're doing is transfiguration but for our bodies, and to ourselves. We preserve—"

"—our mind as Animagi rather than assume an animal mind," Hermione recited, giving him another dry look. "I know how this works, Sirius."

"Humor me," said Sirius, and Hermione nodded. "Our mind is still intact as Animagi, which is our biggest advantage. This is wandless, nonverbal magic, unique of its kind. Once you master it, it's really simple shifting forms, but the first shape shift is the hardest. It took me ages to do this."

Hermione nervously watched as Sirius took a step back. "Watch."

Sirius started to lower himself on his hands and knees when the change happened. It was quick and precise and in the blink of an eye, Sirius was replaced by a black shaggy dog. He barked happily and ran around her, making Hermione giggle.

He stopped in front of her again and pushed himself on his hind legs, and in a second Sirius was back in his human form. Hermione looked at him impressively and Sirius grinned. "I have to say, being a dog really suits you," said Hermione.

"James said the same thing to me," Sirius said thoughtfully. "So, that's that. Looks simple enough, but you have to really, really concentrate. Are you ready to practice?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes."

"Okay." Sirius gave her plenty of space and crossed his arms. "This is purely concentration." Hermione nodded again. "Open your mouth."

" _What?_ "

"Open your mouth, Hermione."

Hermione looked at Sirius anxiously, waiting for him to crack a smile and say 'kidding!' but it never came. Sirius looked down at Hermione expectantly and, reluctantly, Hermione parted her mouth wide.

"Lift your tongue." Hermione complied, and made a noise of surprise when Sirius placed a leaf in her mouth. "Careful there, you can't spit that out."

"What is this?" Hermione spluttered, not liking the feeling of a leaf scraping underneath her tongue. The taste of it was starting to fill her mouth and she grimaced.

"It's a Mandrake leaf," Sirius folded his arms. "In order to be an Animagus, you have to carry the leaf of a Mandrake in your mouth for one month."

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "When did you three carry a leaf in your mouth for a month?"

"Around Remus's attack," Sirius replied grimly. "Nobody noticed we didn't talk as much during that time; people thought we were just gutted at our friend being stuck in the hospital wing."

The taste of the Mandrake leaf was getting stronger and Hermione had to fight not to spit it out of her mouth. Still, she made no complaint. She had asked for this, after all.

"So…now what?" she asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Now you concentrate."

"On what?"

"Transforming."

"Do I—er—I don't pick, right? What I want to change into?" asked Hermione hesitantly, having a small thread of hope despite knowing what Sirius would say.

Sirius shook his head. "Whatever animal you become, it's not up to you. That's up to the magic resting inside you. Now, find the magic coursing inside of you. Find it, follow it. That's all I want you to do right now."

Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to find the magical energy inside of her. For several minutes she grappled with nothing, gritting her teeth.

After a while, Sirius spoke. "Do you feel it?"

"No," Hermione scowled. "I don't feel anything."

He nodded understandingly. "That's alright. It takes time."

"How long did it take you find your magical energy this way?" Hermione asked curiously.

Sirius pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'd say…three months?" When he looked back at Hermione, he found her gaping at him. "What?"

"Three months? _"_ she said, stricken. "But…the books…"

"…Can be misleading. There is no other way," Sirius said sternly, and Hermione's mouth snapped shut. "You either do it this way or we end these lessons right now. You already knew it could take years to become an Animagus, so why does it matter? Blimey, in any other scenario it would have taken me up to five years to master this, but we all lucked out and did it in a year. That could be you too."

Hermione frowned while chewing on her lower lip, trying for the life of her to remember she  _did_ in fact know this bit of information all along. Perhaps the idea of not being immediately good at something was throwing her off.

Finally she sighed and nodded. "Right, sorry. We'll keep doing this as long as it takes."

"Good," Sirius nodded back approvingly. Sauntering over to the table, he lifted the pitcher and poured himself a glass of water. Hermione was dismayed when he pulled out a chair and took a seat. "You can continue," he waved before taking a generous drink.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione looked away and closed her eyes tightly. She imagined herself shifting and changing, her magic wrapping around her like a fiery shield. She stretched out her mind but her eyes saw nothing but the darkness of her eyelids, and felt for the ebb and flow of her magic.

She didn't know how long she was at this until she felt a hand gently press on her shoulder. Jumping in shock, she looked up to see Sirius smiling softly down at her.

"That's enough for today."

"But I haven't done anything," Hermione replied blankly.

"That's how this goes," Sirius explained. "You won't be able to tell how much progress you're making until you transform. It'll be unexpected."

Hermione acquiesced, but still felt inadequate for not understanding how to improve herself. Being an Animagus was one of the most complex forms of magic she ever encountered, mostly because there was no true guideline of how to become one (at least, not illegally). It relied too heavily on intuition and guessing, which was always something that Hermione never really mastered.

Nonetheless they quickly left the Room of Requirement, and when Hermione glanced down at her watch, she shrieked.

"We're late! We're  _so_  late, Sirius!" she shouted as she ran down the hallway in a frenzy, Sirius laughing behind her.

**xxx**

"… _Spew,_ Miss Evans?"

"S.P.E.W. actually, Professor."

McGonagall regarded Lily blankly, the proposal parchment balanced lightly between her fingers. "And what, may I ask, do you intend to do in this club?"

"To educate my classmates of the history of House-Elves, and their plight. For centuries they've been stripped of their rights and forced into slavery," said Lily calmly. "Perhaps they'll start wondering where the food here at Hogwarts comes from."

McGonagall didn't seem convinced, looking at Lily archly, but nodded curtly. "Very well, you may hold your meeting next week. But I need not remind you that this school requires a minimum of ten students to grant official club status."

Lily grinned cheerfully. "I'm well aware, Professor McGonagall. I assure you that numbers won't be a problem."

McGonagall pursed her lips and glanced down at the sheet of parchment. With a quick flourish of her quill, she signed the permission form and handed it to Lily. "Good luck, Evans."

Hermione was pacing impatiently outside McGonagall's office when Lily came out. She paused, warily taking in Lily's somber expression.

"She didn't…" Hermione trailed, fighting not to let her disappointment show. But when Lily held out a paper to Hermione, McGonagall's signature written clearly in green ink, Hermione's spirits soared.

"You sneak!" Hermione accused, and Lily was grinning hard, linking her arm with Hermione's as they rushed through the corridors and to the Great Hall.

"It's your fault for not having more faith in me," Lily said lightly, and Hermione rolled her eyes. They sat down eagerly at the Gryffindor table while students were just starting to trickle in for dinner. A few warm rolls were already there, and they each devoured one before Hermione began pulling out several sheets of parchment.

"We need to plan a schedule of what we're going to cover each week," Hermione began as her quill worked furiously. "When are you planning to hold the first meeting?"

Lily frowned thoughtfully. "I was thinking next Friday."

Hermione's quill paused. "You do know nobody will want to be anywhere after six on a Friday night."

"Exactly," Lily replied, pleased. "Not only will it be on a day nobody would want to attend a club meeting, but the club title in itself will go under the radar, so to speak. Only those who know what we're about, and are  _truly_  serious, will attend these meetings."

A slow smile spread on Hermione's lips. "Excellent thinking, Lily," said Hermione, impressed. "Now that that's taken care of, let's start with lesson plans. I think we should start with basic defensive spells, mastering  _Expelliarmus_  and what not."

"Let's make a list of spells we have to cover," Lily took out her own quill and started writing on a separate sheet of parchment. She looked up at Hermione suddenly.

"Hermione," Lily began.

"Yes?"

"Do you think third years could do nonverbal spells?"

Hermione looked away from her outline. Deep in thought, she wondered…could  _she_  have done it at thirteen? Hermione suppressed a snort. Well, yes.

But Hermione had to consider what other students were capable of, how fast they learned, and how much practice they would need, and their current spell knowledge and accuracy certainly had to be taken into account as well.

"I think they should learn that last," she said finally. "They need to focus first on being able to perfectly produce the spells we'll be teaching them. There's a reason we learn nonverbal spells in our sixth year. At our age, we're expected to have mastered casting spells and understanding magic to its entirety. We'll teach them nonverbal spell-casting at the very end."

"But they'll still learn it by this year?"

"Definitely," Hermione nodded affirmatively. They would need to know it…they needed to know how to defend themselves now more than ever. Her heart pounded hard when she thought of hunting for the remaining horcruxes, and being found out. If they got wind that a student at Hogwarts was slowly trying to kill Lord Voldemort, if they had even the slightest clue…Hogwarts would not be safe.

She didn't want it to come to that, though. The last thing she wanted was putting the lives of hundreds of students at risk because of her. This had to end cleanly.

"But can you really expect that?"

Hermione jumped, looking frightfully at Lily. "W-what?"

Lily raised a brow. "Can you really expect them to understand it?"

Hermione exhaled slowly, relieved. It was silly to think Lily knew what Hermione was thinking. Shaking her head, she answered honestly. "Yes, I firmly believe they can do it. If they're determined to learn, nothing can stop them."

**xxx**

Hermione chewed nervously on her thumbnail as she and Lily paced the empty classroom. There was a large folder tucked under Hermione's arm filled with notes, though not the sort that would really be needed for the meeting. It was a backup plan should McGonagall come to observe the meeting; just the idea of it made Hermione's stomach flip. While she had no qualms against Professor McGonagall, playing this double role wasn't something Hermione felt entirely prepared for.

"How's your mouth?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Sirius sidled next to her. "No different than before."

"Surprised you haven't eaten it yet," Sirius commented wryly, and Hermione glared. "What? It's happened."

"To you?"

"To  _a_  witch or wizard," he corrected. "Seems you haven't, though."

"Your faith in me is comforting," said Hermione distractedly, her eyes fixing back on Lily.

Sirius followed her gaze. "She doesn't seem too worried, does she?"

"Why should she?" Hermione asked in a slightly high-pitched voice. "She knows what she's doing; we have a backup if McGonagall walks in—this should go smoothly."

"Not many students create new clubs here," Sirius noted thoughtfully. "Especially about House-Elves. Funny you chose them."

Hermione's racing thoughts paused, and she narrowed her eyes at Sirius. "How is it funny?"

Sirius hesitated, unsure at the strange look in Hermione's eyes, "I mean, they're just House-Elves. They're not very interesting."

Sirius could feel the air growing colder around him. Hermione replied primly, "Well when  _your_  life is forcefully bound for eternity to someone who doesn't see you as a person, you'll wish somebody in the world would care about your rights."

Leaving a speechless Sirius behind, Hermione snuck a glance down the corridor to see if the telltale swish of an emerald green cloak, matched with McGonagall's severe glare, were approaching towards the classroom. When neither came, she slowly closed the door and caught Lily's eye.

Sirius had been right, of course; Lily did not seem the least bit worried. At Hermione's nod of assurance, Lily nodded back and turned to the group of students that had gathered inside the room. They were all the same students who'd been present at the secret meeting, which to a degree disappointed Hermione (did  _nobody_  care about elfish rights?), but it made the meeting much easier.

"Thank you all for coming again," Lily smiled gratefully. "Seems we have the same group as last time. Since this is our proper first meeting, I thought it'd be best to first answer some questions and keep it informative, starting with the reason we're all here. Voldemort."

It was as if a gust of cold air had rippled in the room, students shivering and a few yelping in surprise.

"D-don't say that name out loud!" Peter said weakly.

"I'm not afraid of the name," Lily said calmly. "But I am afraid of what he's capable of. He's the reason why we made this defense club in the first place; his followers have been terrorizing Britain for years, muggles and wizards alike. He's getting stronger. We have to be able to stand up for ourselves."

The room fell silent. Hermione could feel the worry and fear emanating from the students at the reality of Lily's words.

"Why do you think You-Know-Who is doing this?" a timid girl second-year asked from the back. Her voice did not quaver, but she did shift nervously at the blank looks.

"Perhaps because he's evil?" Merilla rolled her eyes.

"Yes but…but, what is he trying to win by killing and hurting people?" the girl persisted. "What could he gain by hurting so many people?"

"Power," Lily answered decisively. "Power through fear. He wants control. For now, he's settled on blood purity, that somehow having muggle heritage makes you less of a person. For the past few years he's made a mission of hurting muggles, wizarding families with muggle heritage, and any blood traitors who support them."

The room fell silent as everybody contemplated Lily's words. "Is that what happened to Granger and her family?" a boy asked boldly.

Hermione started. She looked at the boy who spoke up, and was surprised to see so many other curious faces watching her expectantly. Did they really expect her to talk about the murder of her parents? One she hadn't even been able to witness, her parents buried and gone by the time she woke up in James Potter's house?

"We're not here to discuss Hermione's life story, or anybody's for that matter," said Lily coldly. "If there aren't any more real questions, we can move on."

Hermione's eyes flitted to the curious and confused faces, and felt a pressure bubbling up in her chest, thoughts racing in her mind, until the words burst forth unwittingly from her mouth, "Yes. Yes that's exactly what happened."

Staring at her in shocked silence, their mouths gaping, Lily's head whipped to her in an instant as Hermione continued. "It was sudden, and quick. There was no warning. I—I don't remember any of it. But I know what the Dark Mark looks like. In the papers it's small, and you can almost ignore it, but seeing it up close is something else."

Hermione breathed sharply through her nose, now recalling the summer at the Quidditch World Cup, and channeling the terror in those memories and bringing it forth, praying it would do its intended purpose. She wanted these students to look beyond the fascination and understand the tangible fear, the very same fear they had felt Hogsmeade, and motivate them. Just this once.

"You see it, and at first you don't understand it. It's massive and looming over you, filling up most of the sky as it moves. And then—then you realize what you're looking at, and that's when you remember to be afraid. And you don't want to know what's happened, but of course you already do."

Her eyes were burning, but Hermione's expression remained unchanged. The students were now regarding her with horror and something akin to empathy, but her eyes traveled to Sirius's instead, who had been watching her intently throughout her speech. His eyes were wide and she was thrown off by the knowing look in them.

"I don't know anything beyond that which the papers published. I can't seem to remember it, but I know this much. What's happening out there is real— _nobody_  is safe. In an instant, you could be face-to-face with someone who will try to kill you. I wish I'd had the proper training and focus at that time. Maybe things could have been different, then."

It seemed forever until someone spoke. "You are brave no matter what, Granger." It was the sneering Hufflepuff boy, though not a single trace of haughtiness was on him now. His eyes mirrored a look of determination that everybody else seemed to have now, and Hermione made an effort to smile, though it came out as more of a wobbly grimace.

Questions started pouring in then, and it wasn't until late in the evening hour when Lily finally said, "That'll have to be enough for now." At the uproar of disappointment, Lily sighed. "McGonagall hinted that she might show up during the S.P.E.W. meeting, so we have to take this precaution—at least for this meeting. We've devised a backup plan so we won't be caught unaware lest she suddenly comes to observe us."

Hermione sidled next to Lily then, hefting the large folder more securely under her arm. "Before we start practicing spells and such, we thought it best to actually talk about House-Elves in case McGonagall asks us of particulars," Hermione announced happily.

A collective groan resounded in the classroom.

"Can't we just make something up if she asks?" Merilla Stacy asked wearily.

"What's there to know?" the Hufflepuff boy asked exasperatedly. "They  _like_  serving wizards and witches. It's in their blood."

"That right there _—that_  is exactly why we're going to talk about House-Elves," Hermione snapped crossly. "These assumptions end today." When she saw them starting to slump in their seats _—_ much like they when Professor Binns droned on about the Goblin Wars _—_ she added fiercely, "And we're  _not_  moving on to spells until all of you have some basic knowledge."

"Hermione," said James patiently. "We understand what you're trying to say, but…they  _like_  being House-Elves. They find it offensive when someone tries to interfere or set them free. Surely you realize that?"

Hermione pursed her lips together. "Of course I do. I've seen what happens if you set free a House-Elf that doesn't want it. But I've also seen what happens when a House-Elf doesn't want to be enslaved." She shook her head. "Servitude isn't inside them like eye color or an instinct; it's enforced since their birth. From the other elves, from the families they're magically bound to—from their inception they're told to believe that this is what's right. How is that okay?"

Hermione's speech had come just in time, for a stern voice suddenly said, "An excellent question, Miss Granger."

McGonagall hovered by the doorway with her arms crossed, watching the students jump in fright and glance at her. She had clearly just arrived, as Hermione knew that door had been closed just moments earlier.

"Thank you, Professor. It's one we'll be thinking about until our next meeting." Looking at the students emphatically, they slowly began to pack their things and trickle out of the room. Lily and Hermione were the only ones who remained, along with McGonagall.

McGonagall offered them a rare smile. "That was a fascinating end to the meeting, ladies. I'm rather impressed you garnered such interest in this subject."

"It is an important topic, Professor," Lily nodded surely.

Bidding McGonagall a good night, Lily and Hermione quickly fled the room and headed to the Gryffindor common room, where they were met with interested and gushing underclassmen that had been at the S.P.E.W. meeting. Nodding faintly and waving them off, they tiredly went to the girls' dormitory and pulled on their night clothes. Lily laid awake, staring up at the canopy with a sense of accomplishment.

"You were brilliant, Hermione." She turned to look at Hermione. "You  _are_  brilliant."

Hermione's cheeks glowed as she turned her head to look at Lily, both of them smiling in the dark despite the very serious meeting just a half hour ago. "So are you."

**xxx**

Rain pounded heavily against the high-arched windows of the library where Severus Snape sat. He set his quill down against the inkpot to stare outside the murky windows; from here the sweeping hills of the Hogwarts grounds could be seen in their entire splendor, vast and rolling until it faded into the Dark Forest. He remembered how it felt when he saw it for the first time in his first year. Hogwarts grounds, compared to his tiny home on Spinner's End, had made him feel like anything was possible…it hadn't taken very long, though, for him to realize a nicer home and better food did not relieve him of all of his problems.

He barely lasted a minute staring out the window before a lofty voice said, "This hardly counts as studying."

Severus looked up, frowning. "I only just took a break." His eyes narrowed when Hermione's expression grew smug. "Why am I bothering explaining this to you?" he said distastefully. She didn't answer, choosing to set her bag down and start taking her books out, sitting across from him. He eyed her suspiciously. "I take it you're no longer angry with me."

"I wasn't necessarily angry at  _you_ ," Hermione replied and unscrewed her bottle of ink, wrinkling her nose when some of the ink spotted on her fingers. When she did not elaborate, Severus pressed further, "Have you figured things out, then?"

"Surprisingly," she smiled. Severus rolled his eyes, looking at her disdainfully. "You're annoying."

"And you're impatient," said Hermione swiftly. "We both have questions for each other, and we both have news to share, so will you at  _least_  let me unpack and organize my things before we, I dunno, pour our hearts out to each other?"

Severus sighed. Hermione busied herself by shuffling a deck of notecards and setting them aside, then unscrewing several more bottles of ink, these ones of various colors for note-taking. He grew restless again, and before he could stop himself, he said, "I hear you've started a club."

"Yes, and you're not allowed," Hermione replied primly.

"Why not?" asked Severus indignantly. Not that he had any real interest to join a club, but the flat denial irked him.

Her eyes finally flickered up at him, hands pausing. "It's a defense club, and if you come and join, what will your  _friends_  think?" she asked lowly. "If they find out you're going to a secret defense club, they'll either assume the worst, or try to join as well, thus forcing us to end the club then and there. Or they'll ostracize you for joining a club about House-Elf rights, which defeats the whole 'spy' purpose."

"A defense club under the guise of being about House-Elves?" asked Severus, impressed. "How did you even manage that?"

"Always the tone of surprise," Hermione sniffed, but a wry smile broke through. "You have Lily to thank for that, though. She organized it most of it, and she was the one to come up with a defense club in the first place. The attack at Hogsmeade really bothered her." At Severus's sudden despondence, Hermione frowned. "It's not your fault, you know. Like you said before, you didn't know what would happen."

"I should've realized," he muttered, his hands clenching and unclenching. This was something he'd been thinking about since Hogsmeade happened…Lily had been in danger, as had Hermione, and they'd fought against the Death Eaters on their own…he could never forgive himself if anything had happened to Lily…

"Lily can take care of herself," Hermione's sharp words cut through Severus's thoughts. He jolted in surprise, gazing at the severe stare she was giving him. "You're forgetting she's the most brilliant witch of your year. Even if you warned her—which by the way you  _can't_ , since you being a Death Eater is a secret—do you honestly think she would stay behind at the castle?"

Severus looked away. Finally, once he seemed to overcome some of the guilt that had been plaguing him for days, he replied dryly, "I thought  _you_  were the brightest witch of our year."

"Of  _my_  year, of course," said Hermione easily, returning her attention to her books. "I'm not really part of this year, and anyway I'm not particularly interested in putting myself in a competition against Lily." She stilled, then, looking at her side of the desk with satisfaction. "Alright," she nodded, "I'm all set up for studying after our talk. We can start now."

He waited a beat, before continuing, "What if I was careful, though?"

Hermione blinked. "About what?"

"Coming to the meetings."

Hermione groaned. "You're still on that?"

"Think about it," Severus pushed. "Who's got more experience with dark arts than me? I could—I don't know—help train them against dark magic."

"Do you really, actually want to be part of this club?" asked Hermione curiously.

Severus paused. "Not really…perhaps? I just like having options."

She looked at him skeptically. "I'll keep your words in mind. For now, we have a lot to catch up on."

"Indeed. Which reminds me, you  _do_  realize we're in a library? Anyone could've heard the multitude of things you just blurted out now."

Hermione snorted. "I'd like to see them try. I cast a  _muffliato_  spell when you were busy daydreaming out the window."

"I wasn't—!" Severus glared at Hermione's knowing smile. "You're awfully cheerful today, aren't you? Practically glowing." His eyes widened. "Something's happened… something good! I haven't seen you this happy since last year."

"That's not saying much, considering last year was horrible," Hermione remarked darkly. "But you're right, things have been looking…up…I suppose. I want to know your side first, though, then we'll get to mine."

"And what if I want to hear your side first?" asked Severus stubbornly, to which Hermione quipped, "You'd best prepare for disappointment, then." Severus sighed and stretched, his stiff muscles loosening a bit.

"Well," he heaved a sigh, "there's not much to say. We were told to go the border of Hogsmeade near the mountains, and they were waiting for us." Severus glanced down uneasily. "They gave us the cloaks and the masks…said our first mission was to set an example of our destruction and ability to evade capture. That would be our proof of loyalty."

"And that's when you started attacking," Hermione nodded slowly, a wrinkle in her forehead. "Who else was there?"

"Lucius Malfoy, Alecto Carrow, and Walden Macnair were the ones who gave us the orders," Severus recounted, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "Later I think I saw Amycus Carrow…but that was it."

Hermione pursed her lips. "And then they left right after?"

"Immediately," said Severus. He looked at Hermione questioningly. "Does this mean anything to you? Are they important?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know any more than you do, Severus. I can't say I know much about the other Death Eaters, but I did know of Lucius Malfoy…he was sort of close to Voldemort…"

"He has to be if the Dark Lord entrusted one of his horcruxes with him," Severus said bluntly. Hermione nodded in agreement. "Regardless, I'm certain what happened at Hogsmeade was reported back to him. Anything more than that is anyone's guess."

Hermione had a distant look in her eyes, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. "Regulus," she said abruptly. "You said Regulus used your spell to curse Sirius. Why?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably. "I haven't been able to get much word out of him, to be honest. But I did confront him after the incident. He said it was to protect his family…that's why he used my curse. So it would 'seem real'."

Hermione frowned deeply at these words. "So it would seem real?" she repeated, and Severus nodded. "He did this to protect his family…Merlin knows he's been a bit of a target since the beginning, what with his family ties and Sirius denying his heritage, and Regulus taking up the role…" Her eyes widened. "Do you think he's being monitored?"

"What do you mean?" asked Severus curiously.

"Regulus said he used your curse—a potentially  _fatal_  curse—so that it would seem real. That can only mean he's trying to convince someone then, right? Convince someone about more than just loyalty to the Death Eaters, but to Voldemort himself." Her eyes glazed over as the pieces started fitting together in her mind. "Voldemort…must've had doubts about Regulus, probably because Sirius backed out. Even though Bellatrix and Narcissa and a whole load of others come from that house, Voldemort wouldn't be satisfied unless he had absolute certainty that Regulus wouldn't be the same. The consequences of that would've been very bad…"

"He did mention to me that Voldemort wasn't pleased that his aunt Andromeda married a muggle," Severus noted, eyes wide with realization. "Then Alphard Black, the blood traitor, Sirius the abandoner…Regulus is the last heir to restore dignity to the family traditions. He was being pressured from the start."

"Being a proficient  _Legilimens_  wasn't enough," Hermione concluded, her fingers wringing together fretfully. "He got past Voldemort that way, made it into his leagues…wounding Sirius nearly to death would be solid proof that Regulus has no sympathy for Sirius's kind of mentality."

Severus gave a disgusted look. "This would've been a lot easier to understand if that brat just  _told us_ what's been on his bloody mind! Before he couldn't keep his mouth shut, now he refuses to say a word!"

"He's under a lot of pressure," Hermione said distractedly, her mind still going over the things they'd just discussed. "At least he's still on our side. Being a double agent on top of all this isn't easy, you know."

"Oh yes, I very well know  _that!_ " Severus huffed. "Being a spy myself, I too have been under duress, but you don't see me hiding in my bed all day."

"Is that what he's been doing?" asked Hermione, a touch of sadness in her voice. Severus shrugged.

"Let's just say he doesn't much prefer the company of anyone anymore. Scabior's been the only one to get through to him lately."

"Yeah, they're quite close…" Hermione mused.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Severus exhaled loudly. "Well, that's all of it. Now it's your turn."

Hermione's eyes grew round, as if worried for a second, and Severus grew suspicious again. "This is something I might not like, isn't it."

"For you? Of course. But this was bound to happen anyway, and it's still all new…"

Severus pulled a face. "You're not dating Black now, are you?"

"What! N-no!" Hermione spluttered, her cheeks flushing pink instantly. "What made you—? Ha, ha, erm," she cleared her throat. "No, that's not what happened. But…well…after the incident at Hogsmeade on our side, it was time to tell him. So…I told Sirius about who I really am. About being a time traveler."

She looked up at Severus tentatively. He was absolutely and utterly gobsmacked. "He took it well, though! A lot better than you," she said accusingly but nonetheless in jest, but Severus continued to stare at her with his mouth hanging. "You were the one to suggest I needed to tell other people about this anyway, Severus. Don't go turning back on that now."

"Of all the people you'd tell first, you picked  _him?_ " Severus burst, finally breaking his silence. His eyes bulged from their sockets, looking at Hermione as if she had grown four extra heads. "What about Lily? Lupin seems to have his head on straight, even if he is a bit of a weirdo. Even the dunderhead would've been understandable as he's your stepbrother, or Pettigrew and his many nervous breakdowns!"

"Firstly, Peter does  _not_  have nervous breakdowns," Hermione reprimanded, scowling. "And secondly, Sirius was the one who knew the most already. Lily has no clue what's going, everyone else just has a vague idea—it was Sirius who's been persistently digging up my past, and—and there was an incident anyway where he sort of saw me before I showed up in this time, but that's all water under the br—" Hermione tried to say this in a rush so Severus wouldn't entirely pick up on it, but he jumped on it immediately.

" _How_  is that possible? How could he remember you before you showed up in our time?" Severus exclaimed.

Hermione winced guiltily, Severus's words forcing her to relive a moment of failure she'd been trying to overlook. "When I had the Time-Turner, I was…interrupted…a girl in my house burst in on me and it frightened me, so my hand sort of slipped…and I was transported to 1971 instead of 1975. I ended up in Diagon Alley, and Sirius was there. He's recognized me as that girl ever since—he's had his doubts, of course—but when he realized I was the same girl, he knew I was hiding a very big secret. I thought he'd figure it out right then and there that I was a time traveler, nevertheless…" she trailed, watching Severus for his reaction. When he merely sighed and looked out the window, Hermione continued confidently, "As it is, it all worked out in the end anyway, didn't it? And there's one more person on this earth who knows what I am and can help us further. This should be good news."

She could tell Severus was going to be annoyed about this for a while, that it was Sirius who knew her secret now, as old prejudices and misgivings were the hardest to overcome. They both had reasons to hate each other, but she assumed since their intervention with Regulus in the summer, things between them would have improved. There hadn't been any quarrels between them the entire year either, and Sirius and Severus lived in civil tolerance of each other while pretending the other didn't exist. This existence, Hermione realized, had a very fine thread.

Narrowing her eyes shrewdly, she inspected Severus once more. "You're going to be working with him from now on, so I suggest you squash down any ideas of instigating a quarrel. I know how much you're dying to flaunt how you were the first person I told—don't give me that look, Severus, I know you very well!" Severus glared at Hermione, which she returned with interest. "But I'm asking you to continue being at least civil. You don't have to start braiding each other's hair, but we  _have_ to work together, or else it wouldn't be any different if I were working on this alone again."

Severus rolled his eyes, huffing. "Do you really think I'd jeopardize things just to get a one-up on Black?" Hermione stared at him. "Fine, fine! I will try to work with him. I should've seen this coming, anyway, dealing with Regulus and all…" Severus briefly thought of the things he'd seen in Hermione's memory by accident and focused on the parts that pertained to Sirius, and fought down a guilty grimace.

Hermione smiled brightly. "Thank you, Sev."

Severus's lips twitched, looking at her oddly. "Lily used to call me that all the time. It's strange hearing it again."

"I've called you Sev before," Hermione frowned. Severus shrugged.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, I have my own questions for you now," Severus leaned forward on the desk and laced his fingers together. "What happened at Hogsmeade on your end?"

Hermione took a deep breath, then began telling him everything that happened from their arrival to when Sirius was attacked. Severus listened to her, intrigued, when she detailed what she heard in Trelawney's prophecy for her, a matter that still confused her.

"From what you're saying, this prophecy is about you and the Dark Lord finishing each other off," Severus said quietly, his brows knitted together as he frowned deeply. "Did anyone else in the pub hear this?"

"Sirius heard it, but I can't speak for anyone else," Hermione said worriedly. "The pub was packed, though. I'm sure nobody else heard." Severus nodded slowly. Hermione looked frightened. "I'm…I don't know what to do, Severus. This prophecy was originally for Harry."

"And now it's yours," Severus said firmly. He no longer looked inquisitive as he gazed at Hermione seriously. "This is expected since you're the fate-changer of this new era. All you should focus on for now is finding those horcruxes and destroying them. We'll deal with the rest when we get there."

Hermione swallowed, nodding. "Okay. Right, yeah. The prophecy isn't what's important right now. Finding the horcruxes is."

"Do you have any ideas about the remaining horcruxes?" asked Severus.

Hermione bit her lip. "So the diary and the crown are destroyed. That leaves us with the ring, the locket, the cup, and a possible snake. Dumbledore had found the ring on his own, so we'll have to start figuring out where that one is. The locket, I don't know…the cup, also don't know…"

As Hermione grew more and more worried, Severus regarded her apprehensively. "We'll figure it out, Hermione. We'll start with the ring and go from there." Severus knew he was going to regret this next bit, but he went for it anyway. "Maybe we can…possibly…meet with Black and start researching together where to find these items."

The crease in Hermione's brow vanished as she glanced up at Severus in shock. " _You're_ suggesting working with Sirius and figuring this out together?"

Severus scowled, looking away. "What's the point of him knowing if he doesn't help?" he said gruffly.

Hermione was impressed. "Yes, that'll help…I'll doing some research tonight. I'll tell Sirius about this."

Severus nodded stiffly, and couldn't help but be somewhat relieved that the overwhelming tension in Hermione that'd been present just moments ago had dissipated, for the time being at least. She was always hardest on herself, not realizing how much she had accomplished already.

**xxx**

High up in the North Tower, students sat sleepily in a heavily perfumed classroom, puffs of smoke coming from the incense at every corner of the room. The Divination professor was droning on about astrology charts, gesturing importantly at a constellation of Capricorn. Sirius yawned as he watched him, checking the time often as he scrawled some notes down.

At the bell tone there was a collective sigh of relief, and they all began packing their things and shuffling out of the classroom. Sirius had just squeezed himself through the circular trap door when he nearly collided into Snape.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he made to sidestep him but Snape blocked his path again. "Move along, now," said Sirius tersely, trying to go around him again but Snape moved quicker. Sirius gritted his teeth and his fingers itched to reach for his wand, but didn't particularly want to start anything, least of all with Snape.

"We're supposed to see Hermione today after dinner," Snape bit out, looking as if it physically pained him to speak to Sirius. "I assume she told you."

"Yeah, among other stuff," Sirius groused as he finally got past Snape, and started walking briskly down the stairs. Snape followed him down. Sirius regarded him with dislike. "I don't need a bloody escort."

"Don't make me vomit," Snape spat. "Since we both came from the same class just now, I thought it prudent to tell you how this will work."

"She could tell me herself—"

"She won't be coming down to dinner so she told me to relay the information personally," Severus said coldly, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "These things unfortunately cannot be written in by owl."

Sirius resigned to hearing Snape out as they reached the bottom of the staircase. He could hear the loud chatter coming from the Great Hall, and the promise of food made his stomach tighten. Turning round to face him, Sirius waited.

"She changed the location from the library to meeting on the fourth floor," Snape informed. Sirius frowned.

"Where on the fourth floor?" he asked.

"She did not specify. That's all." Snape regarded Sirius with disapproval, a critical look in his eye, and his mouth parted as if wanting to say something more. He decided against it, however, and immediately snapped it shut. Without another word, Severus turned away from Sirius and made for the Great Hall.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the strange behavior but took no mind to it; Snape wasn't somebody he cared thinking about much anyway. He joined James, Peter, and Remus at the Gryffindor table and ate as much as he could, finally feeling like he was his regular self again. The past few days had been grueling on the students as their professors loaded them with piles of work, and the first wave of exams were just around the corner. For once Sirius was genuinely worried about classes, especially with N.E.W.T. examinations that were just a few months away.

As the plates cleared away and the students started trudging out of the Great Hall, Sirius made an excuse of going to the library before separating from the group. He dawdled around the ground floor for a bit until the last of the students and professors had gone away, before he finally decided to climb up the stairs.

Many of the portraits along the staircase were empty, and the few that remained were already fast asleep. Torches burst into life as Sirius turned down to the fourth floor, and found Snape standing there already, waiting. Neither said a word.

Just when Sirius started considering knocking his forehead against the wall, Hermione ran into the fourth floor corridor, flushed and breathless.

"I'm here," she panted, hefting a large bag over her shoulder. "There's an empty classroom no one uses anymore just around the corner."

They followed Hermione to the classroom. She pulled out her wand and whispered, " _Alohomora!_ " and once door clicked, they quickly went inside.

Hermione's eyes traveled warily between Sirius and Severus, the silence between them reaching unbearably tense and awkward levels. She busied herself by pulling out books from her bag. Sirius's eyes bulged.

"Blimey, what else have you got in there, a tent?" he exclaimed.

"I'm sure that was meant to be a joke, but there actually is a tent in here," Hermione said off-handedly. At both Severus and Sirius's incredulous stares, Hermione snapped, "I had no idea where I'd be if I time-traveled here, I had to be prepared."

Hermione spread the books before them, each one looking more worn than the next. "I picked these out from the library today," she explained. "This is where we'll start doing our research. I changed our location to this room instead of the library because it'll give us more privacy, and because I didn't want Madam Pince getting suspicious…the less anyone knows, the better."

"Why these books in particular?" Severus inquired after lifting a tattered volume that was bound several by a thick leather clasp.

Hermione raised her wand and conjured a set of comfortable chairs to sit in, then lifted it again to join several desks together into one long, sweeping table. Flicking her wand, each book gently set itself down on the new table. Once they were seated comfortably with a book in front of them, Hermione answered his question. "Back in my time, I learned a few things about Voldemort. Dumbledore also gave an explanation before I used the Time-Turner, but it's not nearly enough to find all of his horcruxes easily." She took a deep breath.

"One of the horcruxes Voldemort made was a ring. It belonged to the Gaunt family, but I have no idea who they are or why he chose to use this particular ring. My guess is they're an important pureblood family for Voldemort to even bother with them. If we find out who the Gaunts are, we might get closer to finding that ring." She gestured at the books. "These books have the entire history of the pureblood families in our Wizarding World, archives of newspaper articles, everything. I'm hoping we'll find something that'll bring us closer to where this ring is now."

Severus and Sirius nodded in understanding. "Well then," Sirius leaned over and blew across the book, sending a puff of dust flying off the cover. "Let's get started."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last! This one was a transitory chapter and somewhat explanatory, but we all need these to set up the scene. Next chapter, the horcrux ring! Chapter title is a nod to one of my favorite shows of all time, and seem somewhat fitting for this chapter.
> 
> Thank you for everyone's support, concrit, and suggestions. You're the loveliest readers I've ever had, whether you've been with me since the first chapter or somewhere down the line. I hope I'm doing the time-travel genre justice, as well as the Marauder's era.
> 
> Thank you again to my best friend hinatas for beta'ing this chapter; without her encouragement this chapter might've been posted even longer than it already has been.
> 
> Until chapter 19 xxx


	19. Merope

**Chapter 19**

_Merope_

"You're shitting me."

Sirius's back hurt from being hunched over a table for four hours, his neck stiff and aching. His eyes felt useless and were somewhat unfocused, and Snape was no better; Snape fidgeted every few minutes as he desperately sought a more comfortable position, and Hermione was nodding off before jumping in surprise.

Sirius pressed down the archived copy of  _The Daily Prophet_ onto the table. Severus, who was sitting next to him, peered over it curiously.

"This issue is very old," Severus murmured, "1924?"

Sirius pointed at the paper frantically. "Right here, there's an article— _'Marvolo Gaunt incarcerated for attacking Ministry personnel, while his son, Morfin Gaunt, receives a three-year sentence for multiple offenses against Muggles'—_ this has to be them! Just look at the first name, 'Marvolo'—didn't you say that's what Voldemort's name is? Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

"Marvolo Gaunt," Severus repeated, his eyes narrowed. Quickly he reached for  _Hogwarts, A History_  that was sitting neglected on the far end of the table, and then slammed it open. Sirius and Hermione jumped, startled at his sudden change in demeanor. Sirius turned to Hermione.

"Can't've been an important family," he mused, frowning. "Most pureblood affairs are front page news in the  _Prophet_. They hardly had three lines."

"They  _were_  important," Severus said firmly, sliding the large textbook towards Sirius and Hermione.

Written in deep green and gold ink, under the history and lineage of Salazar Slytherin sitting at the very end, were three names:  _ **Marvolo Gaunt, Morfin Gaunt, Merope Gaunt**_.

"I recognized the full name," Severus said, his lip curling in distaste, "having studied Salazar Slytherin's history for years. I've seen that name over and over. They were the last remaining heirs of Salazar Slytherin himself."

"Slytherin's heirs…" she stopped suddenly, clapping her hands over her mouth. "Merlin. Of course.  _'Enemies of the Heir, beware.'_ "At their blank stares, Hermione elaborated, "Voldemort is the heir to Slytherin, I've known that all along! He's related to the Gaunts! And they're Slytherin's last remaining descendants!"

"I'm sorry?" Sirius and Severus asked in unison, then glared at each other.

Hermione shook her head excitedly. "In my second year, Voldemort tried coming back to power using one of the horcruxes we destroyed already," she looked to Severus, "the diary. He set loose a basilisk in the school through the Chamber of Secrets and threatened ' _Enemies of the Heir, beware'_ —I, as a muggleborn, was naturally targeted and Petrified—"

"You were  _what?_ " Sirius exclaimed.

"—and after Harry defeated him, it was confirmed that Voldemort was behind the attack, that he was Slytherin's heir despite being an orphan, and this article links everyone together!" she finished in a rush.

"One day," said Sirius in amazement, "you're going to sit down and tell us  _everything_  that happened to you in your time. It sounds like a bloody adventure."

"Marvolo seems to be the oldest one, probably the father," Severus noted as peered down the book. "Which leaves either Morfin or Merope who married a Riddle."

"Tom Riddle had a muggle father," Hermione recalled slowly, her brow furrowing. "I remember Harry telling me…how he hated his name, how he fashioned himself a new one, an anagram that was Lord Voldemort. Merope Gaunt had to have been the mother." Abruptly, she started sifting through copies of the  _Prophet_.

"What're you looking for?" asked Sirius curiously.

Hermione pursed her lips, fingers rifling quickly through the pages. "Trying to see…there must've been a release article somewhere…" She grew more and more agitated as she searched the pages, finally giving up when she could not find anything. "I thought there'd be an article of when they were released from Azkaban. I guess not."

Severus nudged the pile of newspapers with his finger. "How far back did you go?"

"Erm, I could only check out one paper per year from 1924 up to last year."

"And none of these had mention of Gaunts or Riddles?"

"No…what are you doing?"

Severus lifted his wand and all the scattered books and papers snapped shut and neatly folded on themselves, stacking together into piles.

"There is nothing more in these books that will help us. Our best option now is to search through the rest of the archived  _Prophets_ ," said Severus decisively.

"Are you mad?" said Sirius disbelievingly. "Every single issue in the last fifty years? Who's to say there'd an article about Gaunts or Riddles—there was hardly a  _paragraph_  on the Gaunts' arrest!"

"Because, you blithering oaf," Severus hissed menacingly, "to make a horcrux, you must commit an act against the laws of nature— _murder_. I highly doubt either the Gaunts or the Riddles would have remained in the physical world much longer after he procured the ring, don't you think? And the prophet would surely have written about it!"

Sirius gritted his teeth, glaring at Severus with pure loathing. "The  _Prophet_ 's been skipping out on reporting strange murders for a long time now, only the  _Quibbler_  has mentioned anything about them."

As they glared at each other furiously, Hermione chewed on her lower lip in deep thought. "I suspect they would've printed  _something_ , though," she murmured. "This wouldn't have been a quiet affair, though…and back then, there wasn't the terror of Lord Voldemort destroying your workplace…yes, we should check through the rest of the archive. I'm certain something would've been written."

Severus looked at Hermione triumphantly, and Sirius rubbed his face tiredly.

"Well, do we have a starting point at least? I'm not sifting through 18,000 bloody newspapers tonight," said Sirius irritably.

"Logically speaking," said Severus smoothly, ignoring Sirius's snort, "as Tom Riddle was unlikely to have known about his heritage  _before_  coming to Hogwarts, I would start during his school years."

Before Sirius could throw another retort, Hermione checked her watch. "It's late," she noted unhappily. "There's no point in risking a trip to library now. We'll resume our search tomorrow during our free period."

"But we're so close," Severus said suddenly. "We've almost figured it out, we can sneak inside somehow, there's got to be a way—"

"You  _want_  to continue researching?"

"I mean, this article with the Gaunts and then Slytherin's lineage—I can tell we're nearly there, this puzzle is almost solved. We just—I don't know, if we stop now, it might not be the same tomorrow!"

"That's ridiculous," Hermione retorted, but she knew what Severus was getting at. She herself did not really want to call it a day, her fingers itching to search some more…

She risked a glance at Sirius. His brow was furrowed, staring openly at Snape with a mixture of dislike and understanding. She knew he was tired as well, but with their new discovery, all of them had a rush of adrenaline coursing through their veins.

"Are you up for it?" she said to Sirius.

He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose, then said grudgingly, "Yeah, what the hell. Snape's got a point. We know what we're looking for now; it doesn't feel right to just end it here." His eyes flickered to Snape briefly and rolled his eyes, turning away and muttering something under his breath that sounded distinctly like 'smug bastard' as he headed for the staircase.

"Wait," she called Sirius, and he halted questioningly. "First I have to check something on this floor."

"Check?" he asked in confusion, but Hermione was already stalking away down the corridor opposite from the staircase. Severus and Sirius exchanged wary glances.

Quietly they marched down the corridors, narrowly escaping a run-in with a prefect as Hermione grabbed Sirius and Severus's arms and shoved the three of them behind a tapestry.

The jumped apart the moment the prefect disappeared down the corner, Sirius muttering curses furiously under his breath and Severus just barely containing the urge to hex him, glowering at the tall Gryffindor.

"Stop," Hermione hissed, then continued her hurried sprint down the corridors. They reached a plain wall, distinct from the others only by a mounted oval mirror next to a suit of armor. Hermione gazed at it thoughtfully, pursing her lips.

"What is so important about this mirror?" snapped Severus impatiently. He turned to Sirius. "Do you know this?"

Sirius shook his head, frowning at the mirror. Hermione continued to stare at her reflection, ignoring the two of them. "What am I to do?" she asked the mirror. She drew forward and inspected the sides of the mirror, feeling around the edges. "Is there a password? Something I should touch? I—I want to pass."

To their surprise, fogged words spread faintly on the mirror like morning mist.  _Tap._

Hermione drew her wand and pressed the tip onto the glass uncertainly. Nothing happened. She groaned loudly, "Oh,  _what_  now!" Glaring at the mirror, her eyes bore through it as if trying to see behind it, or perhaps whatever enchantment had been placed on it.

"C'mon, Hermione, it's just a blasted mirror," said Sirius, feeling annoyed as well. "We should go to the library now, before it's too late—"

Hermione gasped. "Just a mirror," she breathed. "Of course! Brilliant! Yes," she spun around and strode to the wall directly across the mirror. She glanced at the mirror once more before tapping the wand against the stone, her mouth sloped in a frown of determination.

To Sirius and Severus's disbelief, the mirror suddenly sprang away behind the suit of armor, leaving a wide, gaping hole that was big enough to crawl comfortably through. Hermione beamed, walking back to the hole with her hands on her hips in satisfaction.

"How did you know that was there?" asked Sirius incredulously. "What spell did you use?"

"Is this a way out of the castle?" Severus gaped.

"I knew from my time that there was a passageway on the fourth floor that led straight to Hogsmeade," said Hermione with an airy smile. "I never got to use it since it was caved in by then, but I had hoped it wouldn't be now. Seems I was right. As for the spell, there wasn't really one," Hermione admitted. "I imagined myself getting past the mirror to a passageway, and whatever came from my wand was answer enough. Fairly good method, really, no other student would be able to accidentally open the passageway if their wand touched that piece of wall, it's all about intention—"

"Yes, yes, alright," Sirius rolled his eyes. "How did we not know about this one?" Sirius murmured under his breath, looking at the secret passageway with fascination. "We've marked all the others—"

"Well now you know," Hermione said firmly, not noticing how Severus had a glint in his eye, filing away Sirius's information in his mind. "According to  _you_ , the room it leads to can fit loads of people inside." She looked contrite. "I am sorry I had to take your discovery away from you. But time is of the essence."

Sirius was still lost. "Why not all the other passageways? They all leave Hogwarts too, if that's what you were looking for."

"But none of them can guarantee the size of a room I'm hoping for," said Hermione firmly. "I chose this one specifically because it's supposed to have plenty of space. We'll need it when we destroy the next horcrux this week."

"You seem sure of yourself," Severus noted. "You really think we'll find it and destroy it this week?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded, her eyes filled with determination. "No more dancing around the problem, or wishing there was an easier way. There isn't. I can't let Hogwarts be my limiting factor to finding these horcruxes quickly—I must leave the castle sometimes to hunt them down. It's silly to only look for them while on holiday, isn't it?"

"It does waste a lot of time during the school year," Severus muttered. "Well, what're we waiting for, then?" He looked at the passageway entrance. "Let's see where this leads to."

Severus climbed through first, then Hermione and Sirius. It was a decent-sized crawlspace with a cold draft blowing in their faces, making them shiver. The mirror slid back in place the moment Sirius passed through, leaving them in complete darkness.

" _Lumos_ ," Severus said lowly, and bright light filled the tunnel. They crawled for what seemed like ages, until Severus suddenly stopped.

"There's a small jump here," he told them. The tunnel had widened to let the three of them stretch out their legs comfortably, and the ceiling was now three feet above them. Severus shifted so his feet were in front of him and pushed himself forward. He dangled for a moment before jumping down. Hermione and Sirius moved forward to peer over the ledge, and saw Severus shaking dust from his robes. "Seems you were right about the size of this room, Hermione."

Hermione pushed her legs forward and jumped off, and Sirius followed. It really was a small jump, and would be easy to climb back up to. Hermione lit her wand and held it high, and saw the high ceilings and wide berth of the hidden room. It was made entirely of metal and dust, large enough to hold two hundred people comfortably.

"Blimey," said Sirius, impressed. "Who would've thought this giant room was hiding underneath Hogsmeade?"

"We need to find the exit," Hermione gritted her teeth against the cold draft. It was coming from somewhere…Hermione followed the chill and pressed her hands against the walls, finding nothing. Severus and Sirius followed suit, and all three of them traced the cool air to where Hermione was pounding her fist against the metal wall. "Come—on—" she said through clenched teeth. Sighing, she stepped back. "Do you think it requires a spell?"

"I don't think so," Sirius mused, biting his thumbnail thoughtfully. "No, I can't feel any magical traces here. There's no enchantment hiding an exit. It's really basic, something muggle."

"You can feel magical signatures?" asked Severus curiously.

Sirius shrugged, messing his hair uncomfortably. "More often than not," he said. "It's really easy once you get the hang of it."

"It's really not," Severus replied suspiciously. "It takes decades to master that kind of magical harmony."

"Then those wizards weren't very good then, were they?" Sirius snapped. Severus said nothing.

Hermione sighed again, pressing her forehead against the cold wall. She felt the draft waft over her head gently, and Hermione paused. She glanced up, her mouth parting, and exclaimed, "There!"

Severus and Sirius looked up. "You're joking," Sirius moaned. "What idiot put a door on the ceiling that's that high!"

"It's an old bunker," Hermione realized. "Not sure how it ended up here, but it explains the size of the room and the metal walls. I'm sure there's some kind of ladder…" she searched around the room, but came up with nothing. In the end, Severus conjured a ladder and propped it against the wall below the metal trap door. Hermione climbed up carefully until she reached the top. A wheel was in place of a handle, and she pocketed her wand, gripped the wheel, and grimaced as she tried to turn it. It screeched loudly, making shivers run down her spine as metal ground against metal; she could see the rust around the edges and felt pieces of paint chipping off against her hand, until finally the wheel gave way and a great  _clunk_  sounded in the room. She glanced down nervously at Sirius and Severus, who nodded encouragingly. Her stomach turned slightly at how high she was, and weakly looked away. Setting her jaw, Hermione pushed up against the trap door. When it did not budge she pushed harder, groaning, her arms starting to protest and the ladder creaking under the pressure—but suddenly it began to lift, and dirt was sliding down the edges of the door, falling from the earth that lay above, until Hermione had cracked it open enough to see the outside.

"What do you see?" Sirius shouted.

Hermione scanned the area carefully before slowly setting the door back in place. She spun the wheel and descended from the ladder, jumping the last step. "Trees," she said breathlessly. "The village is far away. We're near the end, close to the mountains. We bypass Hogsmeade entirely."

"Brilliant," Sirius grinned. "It'll be much easier, not having to sneak past Hogsmeade."

"So this will be the path we take to get in and out of Hogwarts?" asked Severus.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, pushing herself up on the ledge of the tunnel. "We'll take this path to leave the school and destroy any horcruxes we find in the room."

They were silent as they made their way back to the castle. By the time the mirror slid again to hide the passage entrance, the three of them were tired and covered in dust.

"Ready for the library?" Hermione asked wearily. Sirius and Severus moaned incoherently.

"Tomorrow," Severus's eyes were closed, as if trying to Apparate to his bed. "Tomorrow."

They silently agreed, and trudged back to their dormitories. Sirius and Hermione winced at the Fat Lady's loud complaints for waking her up in the middle of the night.

"Some night," Sirius yawned.

" _Great_  night," Hermione corrected, leaning against the girl's dormitory door tiredly. "And we have lots to do tomorrow. Sorry the passageway thing took so much time. I didn't realize how far the tunnel went."

Sirius waved it off absently. "Makes no difference. See you tomorrow, Hermione." He looked at her properly, his eyes briefly losing all traces of fatigue as he smiled down at her. Hermione smiled happily in return, and quietly slipped inside her dormitory.

**xxx**

The next morning the unlikely trio rushed straight to the library before breakfast. Just as Severus had predicted, an article had indeed been written of Morfin Gaunt during the time of Tom Riddle's school years.

"Murdered a family of muggles nearby and then admitted he did it," Sirius read quietly. He looked at Hermione, bitterness in his gaze. "Sounds like Voldemort's style."

Hermione grabbed the paper and read it rapidly, grimacing. "He killed the Riddles. And….yes…it took place in Little Hangleton." Hermione glanced at Severus and Sirius determinedly. "I bet you anything that somewhere in this town, a horcrux is hidden. Voldemort, he—he did everything personally. Every place the horcruxes have been, it was well thought out and meant something to him. He killed those muggles and framed his uncle for the murder. He had to have hidden a horcrux in the town that more or less was the reason he was born."

Severus nodded slowly. "We don't have much else to go on anyway, might as well go see what we can find."

"I guess all that's left is deciding when to go," said Sirius as he folded up the old newspaper.

Hermione bit her lip. "When should we go?"

Sirius replied, "We need to sneak out so nobody knows we're gone, and it'd be better if we did this in daylight. It's far too dangerous even for us together to go lurking in an unfamiliar town at night."

"And when is that?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't see how all three of us are going to sneak out of Hogwarts in the middle of the day unnoticed."

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend," Severus said suddenly. He looked from Hermione to Sirius. "While everyone's rushing to get to the village, we'll just slip away through the passageway."

"Last I checked, Little Hangleton wasn't a brisk walk from Hogsmeade," Sirius said dryly. "How exactly do we plan on  _getting_  there?"

Before Severus could retort, Hermione intervened. "I'll Apparate us there."

"You passed already?" said Sirius, surprised.

"I passed when I was a sixth year in  _my_  time, Sirius," Hermione said patiently. "It helps that you two have been practicing, though; it'll be less of a shock for you."

"Saturday morning, then?" Severus asked.

Hermione pressed her lips, looking between the two boys, and nodded. "Saturday morning."

**xxx**

"That's the third owl this week," Scabior smirked at Regulus's disgruntled glare as a prim black owl dropped a thick envelope onto his empty breakfast plate. "Did you win the Galleon Draw? Are you holding out on me, mate?"

"You very well know what these letters are," Regulus said moodily, tearing the letter up immediately. "More congratulations for being a world class coward."

"Not this  _again_ ," Scabior took out his wand and lazily waved it over the shredded paper. They immediately melded together, reforming into a crisp letter. "You're not a coward. You're bloody brave, that's what you are. No one else could've done what you did—what you did it for."

Regulus sighed, running a hand tiredly through his dark hair, and began opening the letter with an air of resignation. "You were smart," he muttered. "You didn't get involved."

Scabior mirrored his sigh and began piling food onto his plate. "Not so much smart as apathetic," he said plainly. "Nobody takes me seriously, not even myself. Besides," he shrugged, "I'm not nearly high up in the breeding like yours truly—"

"I don't give a  _damn_  about blood purity!" Regulus burst out loudly, earning him several fierce glares. Scabior's eyes bulged.

"Hush up now!" Scabior hissed, his eyes shifting nervously over the glaring Slytherins. "I know you don't care anymore, gods! It won't help if you shout about it. Have you forgotten where you are right now?"

"I don't—" Regulus swallowed, his body rigid with anger. "I don't want you saying that about your status."

"I was joking!"

"Don't even joke about!"

"Alright! Damn it, alright. Keep your socks on." Scabior shook his head, distracting himself with a large gulp of pumpkin juice. "Was only trying to cheer you up.  _Clearly_ bad form. Now stop your sulking and eat." They sat in silence for a few minutes, Scabior chewing thoughtfully, until he said idly, "Mind you, my family  _is_  actually quite brilliant. I may not have blue blood but I do have blue brains."

Regulus choked on his toast. "I don't think that's real."

"It is. I've taught you nothing these past months, then, it seems."

"Speaking of teaching," said Regulus, "are we practicing today?"

Scabior snorted in his eggs. "What's left to practice? You've bled me dry, Black. Haven't got any spells left in me."

Regulus made a face. "We've got to do something. I can't stand sitting in the common room anymore, hearing them all gloat and holding out their arms all delicately. They're idiots."

"Of course they are," Scabior said easily. "And once you get your chance—which I suspect you will soon, as there're, yes, two more owls sending their regards to you right now—you can pull rank and send them to Romania or some shit. Convince them there's dark magical artifacts in dragon dung."

Regulus was caught between a groan and a laugh, shaking his head as two more letters fell onto his lap. Grinning, he stuffed those in his robe as well. "And then send them to the cave trolls."

"Cave trolls?" a voice sneered. Regulus's smile dropped as Avery took a seat beside him. "Off to see your family, then, Scabior?"

"Oh, we  _really_ don't want to go there, now," Scabior drawled. "Didn't your cousin marry a muggle magician who runs a circus in Leeds?"

Regulus snorted loudly, covering it with a generous swig of water. Avery clenched his jaw.

"You watch your step," he growled. "Things are changing 'round these parts now. Loyalty is everything."

"I'd say I'm a loyal bloke," Scabior smiled widely. "Don't even need a pretty little drawing on me arm to prove it neither." Avery's eyes narrowed.

"This is boring," said Regulus coldly. "Let's go." Avery glared at Regulus as they stood, but said nothing. A rush of satisfaction surged through Regulus's body, the letters in his pocket suddenly lighter as he walked with Scabior to the grand staircase.

"Damn," Scabior raised his eyebrows. "That was something else." He looked at Regulus and grinned, grabbing him by the neck and messing his hair. "Pulling rank already, eh?"

"Thought I'd give it a try," Regulus replied, a hint of true bred haughtiness coming into his voice as he fixed his hair. "Honestly, the amount of respect he receives is laughable. I have no idea why he's leader."

" _You'll_ be leader soon," said Scabior. "Then you'll shape up those tossers. Teach them the real beauty of the Dark Arts, teach them the sight beyond the convoluted lies they're following like the bloody fools they are—"

"'Convoluted'?" Regulus repeated. "You must be blue brains after all."

"Oh fuck off."

Regulus grinned, the sensation somewhat strange for he hadn't done it in a while. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but Scabior...well, he didn't like to think of what it would be like to go through everything without him. His eyes wandered until they met the group of students walking opposite them, and the smile disappeared instantly.

He averted his eyes and looked straight ahead. Through his peripherals he could tell that at least one of them had looked his way. He ignored it.

Scabior made a noise of annoyance. "You'll have to talk to them eventually, you know."

"I know," Regulus muttered. "Just not right now."

"Why the hell not? I'm sure Snape's filled 'em in by now, figured it all out. And Granger's got a temper, so the fact that she hasn't hunted you down and hexed your eyebrows off, I'd say you're in the clear."

"It's not that simple," Regulus said tersely. "If you're so eager, why don't  _you_  talk to her."

"Maybe I will," said Scabior boldly. Regulus looked at him calmly, calling his bluff. His mouth parted in surprise when Scabior turned right around and went down the staircase, walking quickly to catch up with Hermione.

Regulus looked away bitterly and increased his speed up the staircase. He was far too early for class, but definitely wasn't going to head back to the Great Hall and resume breakfast. He supposed he could head back to the common room…

Someone swore next to him. A boy's bag had ripped open and tumbled several books down the staircase. Regulus paused. He started to bend down and pick up a textbook when the boy looked up, "Oh no, that's alright, thank—" he froze. Regulus's eyes widened, halting his movement. "Ah."

"Lupin," Regulus stated. Lupin was already looking away, moving quickly in gathering his things. Regulus's eyes traveled to his tattered bag, noticing the several patches of darned corners with mismatching colors. His mouth sloped downwards. Despite his initial instinct, Regulus glided down the stairs with an air of indifference, bending down to pick up a fallen quill and a ratty old book. Lupin glanced up when Regulus held them out to him.

"Thank you," he said politely. He waved his wand dexterously over his bag and resealed the tear, then stuffed the books back in. Lupin stood up and shouldered his bag, now taking the time to fully look at Regulus. "That was very kind."

"I'd call it something else," said Regulus curtly.

Lupin smiled genially, and Regulus narrowed his eyes. Regulus sometimes resented Lupin for this very reason, for no matter how unpleasant someone was to him, Remus Lupin would always be kind.

"I heard you'd been to see Sirius," said Lupin, jolting Regulus from his thoughts and catching him off guard. "After he was attacked at Hogsmeade."

"I—no, I didn't," he lied. Lupin smiled.

"Ah. I must have been mistaken, then."

Regulus scowled, feeling once again the child he'd been when Sirius first introduced Lupin to him all those years ago, back when he wasn't at Hogwarts yet. Remus Lupin had always unnerved him the most.

"You look terrible," he said unpleasantly. It wasn't entirely a lie, either; Lupin's hair was limp and straw-like, his skin sunken with dark circles as if he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in days.

Lupin sobered. "Yeah," he nodded, shrugging. That was that, then, Regulus supposed. Lupin gave him a vague smile and hurried down the stairs for breakfast. Regulus watched him oddly and gave himself a shake. So much for avoiding Gryffindors.

**xxx**

"Hello again, beautiful," an elbow was suddenly resting on her shoulder, and Hermione scowled. "Long time, no see."

Hermione groaned.

"Oi! Is that how you greet your friends?" said Scabior, offended.

James, who was staring at the exchange with increasing confusion, said, "Friends? You and Hermione?"

Scabior's eyes found James's, and they lit up. "Don't you remember, now? How this little witch sat at our Slytherin table during meals when you lot turned your nose up at her?" James's eyes bulged and his cheeks went pink. Sirius scowled beside him.

"Where's the tosspot? Aren't you two usually attached at the hip these days?"

"He helped me in the stairs, actually," Remus strode towards them, breathless, and they all took a seat at the Gryffindor table with Scabior and Hermione sitting a bit further away. Sirius's brows rose.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Remus shrugged lightly, thinly buttering a slice of toast. "Old bag tore again."

Sirius frowned, then clapped Remus's back. "You have got to get a new one, mate," he said. "Even magic's got its limits."

"I know," Remus agreed with a heavy sigh, one which Sirius knew meant  _yes, you're right of course, but I don't actually plan to spend money on a new bag_. "Where's Peter?"

"Still sleeping, I'd wager," James cut in, finally tearing his eyes away from Scabior and Hermione. "Poor chap stumbled into the dormitory at five in the morning, studying all night."

"Please tell me it was for our midterm exams and not the N.E.W.T.s," Sirius moaned. "At this rate he'll burn out before Christmas!"

"Both," James informed sadly. "He's got the right idea, though. We've got to take those exams seriously…I haven't even started on any of our essays…"

"That's because you can write them all the night before they're due and still receive the highest marks in our class," Remus retorted, and Sirius chortled into his water goblet.

"Didn't know you were jealous, Moony," James said under his breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You must not know me very well," Remus smiled, "there's plenty to be jealous about."

James's smile faded. "Pretty bad this time, yeah?"

Remus shrugged, his hands fiddling with his goblet. "It's the weather. Makes my joints hurt more somehow…it's always harder becoming him— _that_ —in the winter."

James and Sirius frowned, then leaned closer and began speaking quietly. Lily walked by them with her eyebrows raised, then took a seat next to Hermione, not noticing who was sitting near them.

"Morning," Lily said pleasantly. "So for today's meeting, I thought we could start with defensive spells—"

"Meeting?"

Lily looked up and saw a boy wearing a Slytherin tie sitting across from Hermione. "Hello?"

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, "he invited himself here—"

"Name's Scabior. We've met before." Scabior grinned at Lily appreciatively. "What's this about a meeting?"

Lily's eyes slid to Hermione, but couldn't read her expression at all. Lily turned back to the Slytherin.

"It's about House-Elf rights. I'm sure you wouldn't be interested."

"Ah, but to me it is. What's this about defensive spells, then?" Scabior inquired interestedly.

"Nothing," Hermione interjected, looking sharply at Scabior with a meaningful look that Lily didn't understand. "We'll talk some other time."

Scabior smiled, somewhat more gently this time, and exhaled. "Some other time, then." With that he stood up and strolled away.

Lily frowned. "Odd. What was he talking to you about?"

"Nothing much, really," said Hermione, shrugging. "What were you trying to tell me earlier? The defensive spells?"

"Yeah," Lily quickly unrolled a sheet of parchment and showed it to Hermione. Hermione glanced up as Lily explained, watching Scabior's retreating back until he left the Great Hall.

Scabior made his way back up the staircase and headed to Charms. The room was vacant, and Scabior sat himself in a seat far back and crossed his feet atop the desk. He was early, but knew he wouldn't be sitting alone for long…

Ten minutes later the door opened and Regulus shuffled in. He blinked when he saw Scabior already sitting, and slid into the seat beside him.

"Had a nice chat?" Regulus asked coolly. He wouldn't meet his eyes. Scabior shrugged lightly.

"Eh, I've had better." He watched until Regulus glanced up at him, smiling faintly as the corners of Regulus's lips tugged upwards.

"Honestly…?" Regulus asked quietly, his voice low and tentative.

Scabior sighed dramatically. "Honestly?" He gently nudged the side of Regulus's head. "You'll be fine."

**xxx**

"Hermione,  _what_  are we doing here?" Sirius growled as they stood, shivering, near the greenhouses. Behind him, Severus was sulking quietly.

"If it's potions ingredients I assure you I can find them on my own time," Severus hissed through his chattering teeth. Hermione had called them abruptly to meet outside the greenhouses, leaving the two boys cloak-less and shivering.

"No, it's—well, it's a loophole. Since we'll be going on our  _trip_  soon, I figured now was the best time to do this." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and peered through greenhouse one, waiting. "He's always lurking in this greenhouse around lunchtime…"

"I'm starting to hate your vague explanations," Severus glowered. "You really should have been in Ravenclaw."

Just then, Hermione shushed them and stepped back. They waited with held breath, until the sound of a man humming grew closer and closer. Suddenly a translucent figure glided from inside the greenhouse and towards Hermione, Severus, and Sirius.

"My word!" Sir Nicholas yelped, startled as he almost ran into Hermione. "Don't you know better than to frighten a ghost?"

"What happens if you frighten a ghost?" asked Sirius curiously.

"Just wait and find out!" Nicholas started towards him threateningly until Hermione blocked his path.

"Sorry, sorry! We just, er, came to chat with you," Hermione said, flustered. "We need your help."

"My help?" asked Nicholas, puzzled.

"Yours specifically."

A smile broke across Nicholas's face and his chest puffed out pompously, the frills on his ghostly shirt fluttering as he seemingly forgot his previous ire. "Anything, my dear girl, anything! I am indeed of the most noble of the ghosts, and to help a member of my own House is the greatest service I can give!"

Severus, who had never spoken to Sir Nicholas or been his presence for longer than a second, had to fight to hold in his laugh. The end result was a constipated grimace.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled gratefully. She turned to Sirius and Severus. "You two, go away for a bit."

"What?" Sirius blurted, and Hermione glared.

"Go!"

Once they were out of earshot, Hermione returned to Nicholas. "I was hoping, if you could, sort of…look at this wandwork I'm about to show you and then go and show it to my two friends over there that just left.  _Only_  to them. And please don't tell anyone about this."

"You want me to be like some sort of—of—messenger, or parrot?" asked Nicholas, affronted. "The insult!"

"I can't show it to them myself, or else I wouldn't ask," said Hermione desperately. "Please, Sir Nicholas. You're the only one I could turn to."

"Ha!" Nicholas snorted. "Well, well….who am I to turn away a young student in need…very well, I shall do as you requested. Remember this, little Gryffindor, remember when your House Ghost aided you…and perhaps write to the Headless Hunt sometime for me? I still can't believe they won't let me in…"

"Of course," Hermione beamed. "Okay, so this is how it is…"

Behind the greenhouse, Sirius kicked at the deadened grass and crossed his arms. "What do you think they're talking about? What the hell are we even doing here?"

Severus's eyes slid to Sirius's distastefully. "Keep quiet and wait."

Sirius scoffed. "Bucket load of fun you are."

Severus glared. "Let's get something clear, Black. We are not, nor will we ever be, friends. So you can piss off."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Oh shove a broomstick in it, will you? You think I want to be your  _friend_?" He laughed even harder as Severus gripped his wand tightly inside his school robes. "The day that happens I'll eat my own hair. Friend," he chuckled. "Things may be changing, but nothing could ever change  _this_."

They were facing one another, their bodies tense with repressed anger and words they were itching to release. Sirius's sardonic smile did not waver as Severus bared his teeth.

"I say, I hope you won't bloody the lawn," Sir Nicholas said dryly. The two sprang away from each other immediately.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Severus.

"Waiting," Nicholas replied in a bored voice. "Now if you please, watch as I do and remember it quickly. I'd like to escape this humiliation before the Fat Friar spots me…" He lifted his arm, pointing his index finger out, and performed a wand-like wave that looked like a backwards seven that trailed into an upwards curve. Sirius blinked several times, and Severus frowned in confusion.

"Sorry, but what is this?" Sirius said as Nicholas continued the movement three more times.

"Can't tell you, but it looks absolutely absurd," Nicholas sniffed. "Have you memorized it, then? I can't leave until you do."

"I—I think so?" Sirius said unsurely. He glanced at Severus, who was pulling out his wand and started trying to mimic the movement. Sirius drew out his own and tried to duplicate it as well.

"You're putting far too much flourish in it! Calmly,  _calmly_ …not  _that_  calmly, you don't want to be asleep…yes, that's more like it…"

It turned out that Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington was an abysmal instructor, with little patience and too many adjectives at his disposal. Eventually, however, Sirius and Severus got the hang of the wand movement, and were relieved when Nicholas announced he would be leaving.

"Your work is satisfactory," Nicholas smiled. "Now I must go before it's too late." Without another word, he flew away speedily towards the castle.

Seconds later Hermione ran towards them, a wide grin on her face. "You learned it?"

"What did you make him teach us?" demanded Severus. "I really don't like being uninformed, Hermione, least of all learning a spell without knowing what it is."

"Remember a while ago I told you I couldn't teach you the counter curse to fiendfyre? That Scabior had made me sign an agreement that said I couldn't tell a living soul how to perform said countercurse?"

"…Yes?"

"Well," said Hermione with a glint in her eyes, "Sir Nicholas isn't living."

Sirius eyes widened. "That was your loophole. You showed Nicholas the counter curse and made him show it to us!"

Hermione nodded. "Granted, I was still scared that it wouldn't work and I'd get struck by lightning or die horribly, but it worked out fine. And I'm sure neither of you have perfected the wand movement, but since I didn't tell you or teach it to you myself, you can learn the rest from my example." She sighed wearily. "For now, if the time ever comes where you need to extinguish fiendfyre, you know how to do it. Merlin knows you may need to if things don't go perfectly during our trips."

"Let's hope it doesn't reach that point," Sirius said darkly.

"This was…admirably brilliant," Severus admitted. He smiled a little, the kind he rarely showed except for his friends, and it made Hermione's heart soar. She could tell he was angry at something nonetheless, and it wasn't particularly difficult to guess what it could be about.

"Tomorrow," Hermione said firmly. "We'll meet on the fourth floor after breakfast. We'll feign a reason why we aren't going to Hogsmeade and then slip away through the passageway. And try dressing in muggle clothes; you don't want to stand out too much when we get there."

"Should we bring something with us?" asked Sirius.

Hermione pressed her lips together nervously. "Only your wands."

**xxx**

The next morning when Hermione's eyes opened, dawn had not yet broken across the horizon. The sky was eerily blue, the kind that was vibrant yet dark, as the stars retreated into the clouds. The fire from the furnace was long since dwindled into dying embers, and with a shiver Hermione slowly slipped out of bed.

She padded down the stairs and into the common room, where the fireplace was unlit and the faint remains of moonlight streamed through the arched windows. She sat on one of the sills and tucked her knees against her chest, watching flurries of snow softly falling on the rolling hills of Hogwarts. The Black Lake was just starting to freeze over, and if Hermione closed her eyes she could almost imagine herself back in the future, where she belonged, where her life was, where she grew up and sat on this very window sill and watched the sun rise. In those lingering moments, Hermione imagined herself at home.

When she started hearing the sleepy grumbles of the seventh years getting ready for the day—as they were the only ones willing to wake at the crack of dawn to study—Hermione returned to her dormitory and changed into her day clothes. Within an hour the rest of the girls were starting to wake up and excited chatter filled the air as people planned on which shops they would visit first at Hogsmeade.

Lily was at her bed the moment she stepped out of the bathroom, already dressed in warm mittens and scarves. "Ready for our adventure, Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled wistfully. "Sorry Lily. I don't think I'll be going today."

Lily's face crumpled. "What—why? No you can't, you  _have_ to come, Merilla and I were going to take you to the Honeydukes and teach you how to get free fudge from the vendors!"

"I'm not feeling well," Hermione unconvincingly tried looking pained. Lily was skeptical.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You were fine last night…"

"It's a bug," Hermione waved vaguely, "it'll pass. I'm just not up for a huge trip out in the cold, you know?"

"Do you want me to go to the hospital wing?" Lily asked worriedly. Hermione panicked. The last thing she needed was Madam Pomfrey interfering.

"No!" she exclaimed. Lily raised an eyebrow, and Hermione smiled sheepishly, "No, no that won't be necessary. Just—just gonna take it easy for now. I should be fine by tomorrow."

Lily regarded her closely, then shrugged. "Alright. Hope you feel better, Hermione. I'll bring you some sweets!"

With that Lily strode away, her vibrant red hair swinging behind her. Hermione sighed guiltily. She didn't like lying to Lily anymore…after all the kindness and unwavering support she'd shown Hermione, and the more secrets Hermione held from her, the more difficult it was becoming to continue lying to Lily. In the beginning it hadn't been very hard, for they weren't very close at the time and Hermione, in her rationale, had concluded that maintaining her emotional distance from Harry's parents would be best. It had been a selfish thought, more for her own self-preservation than for their safety or to preserve the timeline. Yet when fate had thrown her into James's life as a sister, and Lily as her first and best friend, she knew things would be different.

She waited until the girls had entirely emptied out of the dormitory before pulling on her winter coat and bundling herself in a thick scarf. She didn't know when she would tell Lily the truth. She would be angry, and Hermione was afraid of it. It was inevitable, for Hermione would be angry too if Harry had kept something as big as this from her. But it didn't change the fear, and selfishly, Hermione wanted to keep things the way they were for as long as she could manage. She still had a duty to protect the people she loved, one she took upon her own volition, and the fact remained that the more people who knew about what Hermione was doing, the more harmful it would be to them.

For now, Lily did not need to know.

With a heavy heart, Hermione sat back on her bed.

In the boys' dormitory, Sirius chewed his lower lip apprehensively as he sat in his bed, watching his best mates quickly getting ready. He hated this part. The part where he had to lie to his friends…it went against everything he stood for. And lying meant there was no trust, and Sirius trusted his friends above everybody else in the world. They were family to him, and…this didn't feel right.

"What's wrong, Padfoot? Aren't you going to get dressed?" James leaned against his bedpost inquiringly. Hearing James's question made Peter and Remus glance up sharply.

"You're not coming?" Remus asked anxiously.

Sirius looked at Remus, then to James and Peter, all wearing the same expression of confusion. He hated himself even more as he spoke.

"I…can't come this weekend." James and Peter's eyes boggled. Sirius went on half-heartedly, "I have a lot to catch up before term ends and…"  _Lie, say you have to study, say you're not feeling well—_

"Oh, fuck it. I'm seeing Hermione."

Sirius held his breath. Remus merely blinked.

"Okay. See her at Hogsmeade."

Peter folded his arms expectantly.

Sirius sighed. "You know how Hermione's on this hell-bent mission of dismantling the Death Eaters and all that? How she's doing it on her own?" said Sirius. Three heads nodded. "Yeah, well, she's not going at it alone this time. She's up to something and it's pretty dangerous and I'm going with her."

"Where in this castle will it be that dangerous?" James deadpanned.

"He's obviously not staying at the castle," Peter rolled his eyes. "Where're you going?"

"I can't tell you that," Sirius admitted gloomily. "But we'll be back really quickly, and I'll head down with you on tomorrow's trip."

He looked at James, and he wasn't entirely happy, but he didn't seem to be putting up a fight. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said with a half-smile. "I don't like this at all of course, you all know that already, but if you're going to do it anyway…I'm glad you told us. At least now when we're worried sick, we'll know what you're up to."

Sirius smiled gratefully, then made a face when James roughly messed his long hair and walked away. Sirius flattened it back, and Peter wished him good luck. Remus still hadn't said a word.

"Remus?"

His brows were knit together in a slight scowl, but the moment Sirius spoke Remus looked up and shrugged. "Would've been fun if you came, but it's alright," he smiled.

Sirius grabbed his arm as he started to leave. "Mate," Sirius looked troubled. "Come on."

Remus smiled genially. "Don't worry about it. See you at dinner." Sirius's fingers slipped from his arm, and Remus left the dormitory.

**xxx**

Severus looked between Hermione and Sirius skeptically. "You two are certainly cheerful today. Surprised Black even had muggle clothes. Leather?"

"Piss off," Sirius said wearily. Hermione sighed.

"Let's just get this over with," she said under her breath. They reached the fourth floor and Hermione tapped the wall opposite the mirror. They climbed inside the passageway and traveled in silence, shivering the further they went. Finally the tunnel widened and they jumped down the landing, their sounds echoing on the metal walls. Severus lifted his wand and conjured the ladder again, propping it against the wall where the hatch was.

"Who wants to go first?" Hermione asked. Sirius and Severus both grunted, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Just like old times. "Guess that's me." Tightening her scarf and double checking that her wand was still in her pocket, Hermione began to climb. Once she was halfway up she heard Severus climb on, then Sirius after him. Hermione reached up and spun the wheel to the trap door, her muscles protesting against the unrelenting metal, and sighed in relief when the door finally gave way. Slowly, she pushed the door up.

Cold air whipped at her face as she peeked outside. Carefully, she climbed out, her legs trembling unsteadily on the snowy ground, and glanced around to make sure she was alone. Peering down the hole, she called, "Come on up!"

Within moments all three were standing in the snow, cold from the icy wind and sweaty from the climb. Hermione buried her face into her scarf until just her eyes peeked out, shivering.

"Where to?" Sirius shouted over the wind.

"Little Hangleton is in England, and I'm afraid I can't Apparate that far yet," Hermione shouted back. "We'll have to Apparate twice, once to get out of Scotland and another to get to Little Hangleton. For safety, let's walk half a mile out before we Apparate out of here."

Sirius and Severus nodded in agreement, and Hermione led them towards the mountains until even the faintest tip of Hogsmeade was no longer visible. The wind began picking up, and Hermione buried her nose deeply into the woolen scarf. "This is far enough," she called, taking out her wand. Severus and Sirius stood on either side of her, huddling close, and she held out her arms for them to hold onto. "Ready?"

They nodded apprehensively. "Okay," Hermione drew them closer with her elbows and both squeezed back, whether it for preparation or with fear, Hermione would never know. Gripping her wand tightly, she concentrated and held her breath.

She fought to keep from gasping. Her body felt as if it were being forced through an extremely small hole the size of a pin; she was contorting and moving fast through space and time, and Hermione felt nauseous. It'd been more than a year since her last Apparation, and it was more unpleasant than she remembered.

Finally the spinning stopped and they staggered onto the ground, gasping for breath. Hermione straightened, and Severus was the next to recover. He was still breathing shallowly when he turned to Sirius.

"What's—the matter—Black?—Haven't—haven't got the—"

"Another word and I'll kill you," Sirius said hoarsely, holding onto his knees. Severus turned away, groaning and bending down on one knee as he tried to regain control over his stomach.

"Sorry," said Hermione sheepishly. "We may have gone a bit further than you're used to. Than we're  _all_  used to, honestly."

"It's alright. Let's get a move on," Sirius finally straightened, looking considerably less green than he had a minute ago. He went as far as to reach down and haul Severus to his feet, roughly thumping his back.

"Where now?" Severus asked.

Hermione pursed her lips. "Just the second Apparation."

It must have taken all their willpower not to protest, but Sirius and Severus simply walked back towards Hermione and grasped her arms. "This one will be shorter, don't worry," she reassured. "Hold on."

The second Apparation  _was_  easier, and by the time they landed in Little Hangleton, they were still standing upright and unfazed.

Hermione shivered, but it was not from the cold…the air around them was still, the roads vacant and quiet, as if time had suspended her altogether.

"Merlin…" Sirius whispered. He looked at Hermione. "You feel it, right?"

"Yeah..." Hermione trailed, glancing around. "There's something heavy lingering in the air."

"This place is stale. Almost angry," said Severus uncomfortably.

"You think it's cursed?" Sirius asked.

Hermione bit her lip. "There's certainly a cursed artifact hidden somewhere here. The whole town isn't cursed, though. Just…something bad happened here. You can tell."

"It's one of the places Voldemort was most angry," said Severus quietly. "Violent magic like that leaves an impression."

No one spoke as they mulled over his words. Hermione started down the path, glancing left and right as they went deeper into the town. It was as if they were walking through an abandoned village, silent and still, except the homes were far from decaying. It made her nervous.

As they reached a fork in the path, Hermione pointed to her left. "According to the archives, that road down there leads to Marvolo Gaunt's shack. The road to the right is where the Riddles used to live. I'm not sure which one Voldemort would hide the horcrux in." As soon as the word left her mouth, a deep chill filled her and the air grew even colder.

Sirius glanced around warily, reaching for his wand but not taking it out. "Did you hear something?"

"I think," Severus said carefully, "it would be best not to use certain words here. It's stirring something that's best left untouched."

Hermione nodded anxiously, "Yes…let's get moving…we'll take the road on the left. He prides that family name more than the muggle one."

They moved quickly, not wanting to spend a lot of time in Little Hangleton, for the longer they stayed the more apprehensive they were all feeling. The air was growing thicker now, harder to breathe in, and the path was now a plain dirt road. The snow had made it muddy, and Hermione was grateful she'd thought to wear thick boots. Finally they arrived in front of a little shack, beaten and old, visibly neglected for decades. "This is it," Hermione said shakily. She turned to Sirius. "Do you feel the magical signature?"

Sirius nodded grimly. "It's definitely there. The whole damn house is cloaked in the thickest, most foul kind of magic…terrible things have happened here."

"But is it active? Can you tell that?" Severus asked urgently, forgetting his usual sneer and sarcasm. "We could be walking into a trap."

Sirius pressed his lips together in concentration. "No…I mean—I can't tell that kind of stuff, so I'm not sure. I only know that dark magic has touched this house before, and that it's fading. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Hermione said emphatically, touching his arm. "That's more than enough." Steeling herself, Hermione drew out her wand. "Take out your wands," she said to Sirius and Severus. " _Don't_  use it unless you have to. You still have the trace on you, and I don't think being around me will be enough to negate it." They complied instantly, and Hermione took a shaky breath. When she turned the doorknob, it was locked.

"Not surprising," she muttered, pointing her wand at the door. " _Alohamora_."

She yelped in surprised when her wand went flying in the opposite direction. The door had disarmed her. "What!"

"Are you alright?" asked Severus urgently, concern in his voice.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine—the door disarmed me! There's definitely some kind of enchantment over this place, weak as it may be."

Sirius walked over and grabbed the wand from the dirt, holding it out for her helpfully. "I don't think magic will be the answer to getting in, then," he said mildly.

"Then we won't use magic," said Severus firmly, and started rummaging through his pockets.

Hermione held out her hands, "Okay, wait, we need a plan. This could be more dangerous than the other hor—the other items we already collected and destroyed. We never had to find one outside like this, we don't know what's in there!"

"And what could we possibly do to find out other than  _go in_?" Severus raised an eyebrow challengingly. Holding a small, thin rod, he muttered, "I'll need to borrow this for a second," as he reached behind her bushy hair and plucked out a hairpin. Bending down onto one knee, he started picking the lock.

"Good old-fashioned muggle lockpicking," Sirius grinned appreciatively. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"It's good to know," Severus replied, and ignored any subsequent questions. He wasn't particularly keen on sharing his half-muggle upbringing with the likes of Sirius Black.

After a few minutes of jangling, the door clicked and swung open.

"Curious, don't you think?" Hermione noted as they went inside, "that the only way to get in was without magic?"

The shack was scattered with broken plates and boarded windows, bits of pottery shattered on the wooden floor. It took less than a minute to scout the entire house; two small bedrooms were across the kitchen, and next to that was a small, moth-eaten sofa with layers of dust.

"Hang on," Severus frowned as he checked the two bedrooms. "Didn't you say three people lived here? Where's the third room?"

"Maybe they shared?" Sirius suggested.

"No, there's no indication that more than one person lived in each bedroom," Hermione murmured, inspecting each bedroom. Each had only one bed and a wardrobe with tattered clothing, and a wooden table with news clippings. The second bedroom had a table with strange objects sitting on it; a bone-needle hair comb, snake skin preserved in plastic casing, and oddly shaped rocks.

"Here." Severus was standing in front of a broom closet, his hand on the doorknob, staring silently. Hermione inhaled sharply.

A flower-patterned cloth was laid out on the floor with a flattened pillow. Next to the pillow, almost to the ground, the letters _m-e-r-o-p-e_ were scratched into the wooden wall. Hermione bent down and traced them carefully, her throat tightening. It had been engraved with fingernails.

"This…is horrible," Severus rasped, and Hermione nodded as she pressed her lips together. "This closet would hardly fit a child." He looked sickened.

Sirius said tonelessly, "Terrible things have happened here."

Hermione's hand trailed over the flattened pillow idly. It was hard and unrelenting, and couldn't have been easy to sleep on…she paused when her hand brushed something cold and stiff underneath the pillow sheet. Her heart thundered when a familiar skin-crawling sensation crept up her spine. She felt for the object again, her eyes going wide when it moved between her fingers…as if it were a ring.

"Do either of you have a handkerchief?" she asked, her voice trembling. Sirius patted down his leather jacket and quickly handed Hermione a white cloth, fleetingly noticing that the initials  _S.B._ were sewn in the corner. Swallowing thickly, she pushed the metal ring further out from the pillowcase until it dropped onto the flowery bed sheet.

And there it was; the same hollowness that entered her heart, the same emptiness that threatened to shroud her mind…and a strange symbol was inscribed into the black stone, a triangle with a circle inside, and a line intersecting it…

Shaking her head, she quickly wrapped it with Sirius's handkerchief and stood up. "This is it," Hermione murmured, holding out the white cloth. "It was in the pillowcase. He…he hid it in his mother's room…"

Unnerved by the strange Gaunt shack, the trio quickly left and headed back to their Apparation spot. Hermione secured the horcrux in her pocket and made sure to button it before grabbing Severus and Sirius by the arm. With a  _crack_ , they disappeared.

"I never," Sirius panted as they ran back to the trap door, "want to go there again."

"You won't have to," Hermione answered breathlessly. She kneeled down to unlock the door, grunting as the wheel resisted, and Sirius and Severus bent down to help. The wheel gave way easily, and they scurried inside.

Once Hermione dropped down onto the metal floor, she immediately ushered Sirius and Severus to the tunnel exit. "You three wait up on the ledge and back away as far as you can," she warned. "Actually, it's best if you leave altogether."

"Not in a thousand years," Severus hissed. "Are you forgetting what happened last time?"

"What happened?" asked Sirius, looking back and forth between Hermione and Severus who were currently glaring at each other.

"That was a diary," Hermione snapped, annoyed. "It was different. This is just a ring."

"And the crown was just a crown," said Severus sarcastically. "Hermione here was paralyzed under the influence of the diary horcrux—the soul had projected itself to Hermione and read her thoughts, forcing her to see the worst of her memories. I helped her get out of that," Severus turned to Hermione, glaring, "and only then was she able to cast fiendfyre and destroy it."

"You can't stay there alone," Sirius said immediately. "At least let us stand inside the room."

"Are you forgetting it's made entirely of metal?" Hermione shouted frustratedly, her hands curling into tight fists. "I don't want you getting even a little burned, this is  _cursed fire!_  If it looks like I need help then do whatever you want, but right now I need you to do as I say and stay in the tunnel!"

They looked like they were going to fight her on it, but they grudgingly walked towards the tunnel and hopped onto the ledge. Satisfied, Hermione unbuttoned the pocket in her robe and pulled out the wrapped cloth. She felt it thrumming against her fingers, heard the faintest whispers caress her mind. Kneeling, she placed it on the floor and unwrapped it.

The tiny black stone glinted in the wandlight, showing the emblem again. The gold band fit delicately around it, and Hermione was almost tempted to reach out…just one touch….

Hermione shook her head hard and saw her fingers were outstretched, edging towards the ring. She got up instantly and backed away, muttering, "What is this,  _The Lord of the Rings_?"

She took several deep breaths, gripping her wand tightly. She turned her head, staring at Sirius and Severus one last time. They nodded encouragingly, identical grim expressions on their faces.

This time, she closed her mind. This time, she glared at the horcrux with scrutiny, unafraid of what it had to say, of what it would do. Because it couldn't harm her, not like this. It was all mind games and trickery, sweetened whispers that would turn brutal the moment it realized it was under threat. A smile tugged at her lips.

The horcrux desperately tried to react, sensing impending danger, but it was not fast enough; Hermione slashed her wand high in the air and instantly, the world was aflame.

She heard it screaming, wailing, cursing; she could feel it writhing in her heart, agonized and hateful and promising revenge. "You are pathetic," she muttered, hoping that Voldemort could hear her words as she stood over the vulnerable, exposed sliver of soul that was dying. Fire whipped around her like an inferno, and Hermione lifted her wand higher, spinning her arm around her, controlling the flames. She'd never done it before, never realized she  _could_  until now, watching the hated ring spin madly with rage and torment. It was exhilarating, and before she knew it she was laughing. The flames laughed with her, licking appreciatively at the metal walls and pummeling the ring until it screamed no more.

A voice inside her told her to let it burn on, keep the flames spinning high in the air, and Hermione  _wanted_ to. But as the ring came in sight again, the strange emblem still intact, Hermione drew a sharp breath and blinked. Raising her wand, she quickly whipped it into the counter curse, and the fire disappeared.

Stillness like no other met her ears. The aftermath of the fiendfyre curse spread about her in all its scorched beauty. The walls were blackened, hot to the touch and the air was unbearably hot. Sirius pointed his wand up at the trap door and muttered a spell, causing it to fly open and let the fumes escape.

Severus was in front of her at once. "Are you hurt?" Hermione dazedly looked down at herself and was surprised to see not a single bit of damage to her clothes. Even her hair—wild as it was—was untouched.

"I'm fine," said Hermione, amazed. Distractedly she walked around him and bent down at the ring. It was most definitely dead.

The golden band disappeared in a puff of dust when she reached for it. The black stone, however, remained.

"It's still there?" Severus peered over her curiously. Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully.

Hermione shook her head. "It's safe. The horcrux is gone. This…must be a very powerful stone for it to have survived fiendfyre."

They stared at the stone as it reflected in the light, the strange symbol now divided by a thin crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody for your kind words! You make me so happy with your comments! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> As always, thank you to the effervescent hinatas for beta'ing this chapter! You are a shining beacon of light in my life.
> 
> Until chapter 20 xx


	20. Ginger and Rum

**Chapter 20**

_Ginger and Rum_

Coarse wind blew hard across Hogsmeade, sending tendrils of snow flurrying through the air. Lily's cheeks were flushed as she rubbed her gloved hands together and trekked through the densely packed streets of Hogsmeade. There was a nervous fluttering in her heart, her eyes flitting the little shops warily as she and Alice maneuvered through the crowd.

Alice gave her a little nudge. "Are you okay?"

Lily nodded somewhat distractedly. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"Really?" Alice said skeptically. "You're holding onto that wand pretty tightly for someone who's fine."

"I don't know," said Lily honestly. Biting her lip, she pointed at the Three Broomsticks. "Let's get some butterbeer first, yeah? I'm freezing."

Walking inside the little pub was an instantaneous relief; Lily and Alice sighed as warmth washed over them, and Lily peeled off her frozen gloves then shoved them in her pockets. Her bright green eyes scanned the room as they made their way to a vacant table, noticing several hooded figures in cloaks sitting scattered about the pub. She could hear Alice ordering herself a drink but didn't pay it much heed, too busy eyeing the people surrounding her…

"Lily."

Alice was frowning. Lily blinked.

"What?"

"You tell me." Alice folded her hands on the table, gazing at her expectantly. Lily's temper flared.

"Shocking as it may be to you but I'm not actually an Occlumens, so you'll have to tell me what exactly you're talking about," Lily snapped. Alice continued to gaze at her steadily, and a small fraction of Lily's subconscious shrank with guilt.

"You haven't been able to stay still since the moment we left Hogwarts," Alice said softly. "I think you know why."

Angry words bubbled in her throat, but they just as quickly died down. Lily exhaled slowly, though it did not relieve the tenseness in her body. "Alice," Lily's voice cracked a bit, and pressed her lips in a thin line. "I can't help it. I don't want a repeat of what happened last time. What if…what if someone actually gets hurt this time? Or worse?"

Alice leaned closer, dropping her voice. "They've placed security everywhere since the attack," she said gently. "It won't be like last time. Dumbledore's made sure of it."

"Maybe," Lily said quietly. "Maybe nothing will happen. But I—I can't help but have my guard up, Alice. I can't help it. Without realizing it, I've counted six people in this pub with their hoods drawn up. Another four are here all alone, sitting without food or drink." She shook her head, as if she couldn't believe it herself. "I keep touching my wand to make sure it's there, I've replayed in my mind exactly where to go if someone throws a curse at us. I'm being  _careful_."

Alice's eyes widened. "Merlin, Lily...I didn't realize how much this affected you. I thought you were just being paranoid."

"I  _am_  paranoid, Alice, I admit it. But so what if I am?" said Lily, her eyes glittering with passion "What does it matter if it means I'll be safe? If I can protect the people I care about? Paranoia doesn't just happen on its own, Alice, there's always a causality. And this—whatever it is—it's not going to go away for a long time. Maybe never. Can you honestly say you're not afraid?"

Alice lowered her eyes, shifting uneasily. "…No," she admitted, shaking her head a bit. "I'm very afraid. It's hard not to be, after what happened last time. I suppose I'm not used to seeing you afraid, and it's worried me."

Lily looked at her hands. "I'm not as brave as you think."

Alice shook her head again, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's always so fascinating to me when others don't realize what they're capable of. You,  _Lily Evans_ , literally have no clue what you're like to the rest of us." At Lily's inquiring look, Alice elaborated. "We all remember how you fought against them, you know. It's why so many people showed up at the first defense meeting. You stayed out longer than you had to. You could've gone in first, gone to safety like most of us did. But you didn't. You were quite literally dragged into a shop by McGonagall herself."

"I had to," said Lily, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I couldn't just leave, there were kids still out there,  _little_ ones! I know I'm a fair dueler, I knew I had to be out there helping."

"That's exactly it, though, isn't it? You looked out for us."

"I had to," Lily repeated, miffed at Alice's insistence and struggling to find words. "And I was far from brave, I was terrified out of my mind the entire time."

"Bravery doesn't mean you're not scared," Alice said wisely. "I won't argue with you over semantics. Point is, you're the strongest person I know, you're annoyingly brilliant, and you're my best friend." She reached over and circled Lily's wrist with fingers. "I've got your back. I know where my wand is as well."

Lily stared into Alice's baby blue eyes and felt something waver inside her heart, the tightness in her chest slowly unclenching. She worried her lip, unable to say much more.

Alice drank deeply from her mug and gratefully allowed Lily her silence. Draining the last bits of the butterbeer, Alice licked her lips and sighed before going very still. Lily quirked an eyebrow curiously. A slow smile started to spread on Lily's lips when Alice suddenly stretched wide and tousled her hair, shaking it violently. Lily hid her snort as several people gave her strange looks. It had been an old game of theirs, and Lily couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for her, knowing she'd only done it to make Lily laugh.

"Well done," Lily applauded as Alice straightened her hair.

"How many this time?" Alice whispered furtively.

Lily glanced about the pub lazily. "Hmm…if you include Madam Rosmerta…eight."

"That's two more than last time!" Alice squealed excitedly.

"Quite right. Even Frank Longbottom gave you a sidelong look, and you know how much effort it takes to pry his attention away from that old Herbology textbook."

Alice suppressed a smile. "You have to do it too now. Come  _on_ , Evans. That prefect badge has stripped away the devil-may-care hellion I so knew and loved."

Lily made a face. "Alice, when  _I_ do the hair thing, I get offers to take me to St. Mungos. I think it's the red hair."

"It's not the hair, just bad luck."

"I'm still trying to forget the last time, Alice."

"Lily."

"The last time, Alice."

"Just do it, Lily, it'll be fun."

"Nott, Alice.  _Nott_. Alice, Nott."

"Oh don't be so dramatic—"

"Then that wizard without teeth—"

"—you made Zed Bastet do a double-take—"

"—he was missing  _teeth_ , Alice, his dentures fell out—"

"Lily, yes—"

"Lily  _no!_ "

"I'll do a Witch's Dare," Alice challenged, her eyes shining brightly.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "A  _Witch's Dare_? You're bluffing," she laughed, but Alice stared back solemnly. "Merlin, you're serious."

"Course I am. Lily Evans hair flips are as rare as unicorn blood."

"Is that why I'm cursed to explicit mortification every time?" Lily grimaced, glancing around surreptitiously. "Fine," she acquiesced, holding out her hand and twirling her wand in the other. Alice took it immediately. "I propose a Witch's Dare. You will perform the task of utmost embarrassment I choose for you, at any time or place I so desire, or be cursed with…" Lily pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Frog's breath. For two days. Do you accept my Witch's Dare?"

"I accept your Witch's Dare," Alice recited, her eyes gleaming.

"Then perform or be warned," Lily finished the spell's lines, and a thin blue wisp of air streamed from Lily's wand tip and curled over Alice's wrist like a bracelet. "That'll be fun to explain," she smirked.

"I expect it will be," Alice said as she held up her wrist to her gaze and shook around the blue air bracelet a bit. When she turned back to Lily, it was now Alice's turn to smirk. "Now, flip."

Lily sighed and unwillingly took off her hat. She shook her hair out and ran her fingers through it, smoothing out the tangles. Giving Alice one last exasperated look, Lily slowly stood from the table and sauntered towards the bar in what Lily hoped to be an unaffected glide.

"One butterbeer with ginger and lime, please," she said to Madam Rosmerta. Her eyes darted around quickly. She feigned a yawn and stretched her arms, then generously flipped her long, flaming red locks by bending down first and then whipping her head back up.

She cringed when heard someone splutter behind her.

Instinctively she whirled around—not the best mode of action, for it made her hair whip around again—and the spluttering grew louder. Behind her stood James Potter, whose face was pinched in a sour grimace as he attempted to rid the taste of Lily's hair from his mouth.

"Potter?" she blurted.

"Regrettably," he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. "Good thing I've got these glasses to protect my eyes."

"I'm so sorry," Lily apologized, gratefully taking the butterbeer that Rosmerta had placed onto the bar and steered James towards the table where Alice was sitting. Seeing her approach, Alice positively beamed.

"That's  _twelve_  for you, including Potter's mishap. Sorry about that, by the way," Alice tried looking somber for James. "I suppose it  _was_  the color that gave you away…always looks like you've set a fire when you wave that hair around."

"I can't believe you got me do that," Lily muttered darkly, trying to tame the flaming heat that seemed to be permanently adhered to her face. "Was it worth really worth the Witch's Dare?"

Alice smiled secretively. James, on the other hand, was intrigued.

"A Witch's Dare?  _Really?_ " James was impressed. "Blimey, I haven't done that in ages. Not since second year, at least. Mind you I made one with Remus, which was absolutely  _terrible_  because on the outside you think 'oh Remus, here's a nice bloke, wouldn't make me do anything too terrible' but he's bloody ruthless. Never made the mistake of underestimating him again."

"What's this I'm hearing about me?" Remus sauntered over to their table with Peter beside him, their hands filled with drinks. "Are we sitting here?"

"Yeah, why not," Alice ushered them, and Lily pulled out two extra chairs for them. "James was just regaling an incredible story of your last Witch's Dare."

Remus smirked. "Ah, yes. The knickers incident of 1972. Best day of my student life."

"That was because of  _you?_ " Lily's mouth dropped, her throat bubbling with laughter. "Oh my god! We thought Potter got hit too hard in the head by the bludger!"

"I  _had_ ," said James irritably, and Peter howled in laughter. "I also had that damned blue bracelet around my wrist and Remus decided to enact the dare under his breath after the win. I hadn't a clue what was going on until I'd stripped to my undergarments on my broom fifty feet up in the air."

Alice and Lily shrieked in laughter as Remus smugly sipped his butterbeer. Peter was skeptical.

"Sounds sketchy, mate…part of the Dare is to 'perform or be  _warned_ '…I think you wanted to strip on the Quidditch pitch."

James smiled serenely. Lily wrapped her arm around her stomach as it began to cramp, wiping away moisture from her eyes. James's eyes were filled with mirth, grinning with her in a show of good humor. Lily felt lighter than she had before she'd walked in the Three Broomsticks, and—dare she say it—more than when she agreed to the Witch's Dare. She gazed at James a fraction longer after their laughter died down. It took her some time to realize she was still smiling at him.

"This requires another drink," Alice announced as she hopped out of her chair and disappeared through the growing crowd of customers.

"Damn shame Sirius couldn't be here to hear this," Peter chortled as he took a generous bite from his bangers and mash.

"Is he not here?" Lily asked in shock. "I never knew him to skip a Hogsmeade trip."

"He had more important things to do," Remus said quietly, his eyes trained on his mug. James and Peter looked at Remus oddly but said nothing. Lily glanced between the three boys.

"Er…"

"Let's get you something a bit stronger, mate," Peter clapped Remus on the shoulder and helped him up. Remus unwillingly allowed himself to be dragged towards the back of the pub, presumably to try to nick some alcohol from the older students, leaving Lily and James alone at the table.

James smiled sheepishly. Lily couldn't help but smile at his hopeless expression. "Is he alright?"

James blinked. "Who, Remus? Oh yeah, he'll be fine. He's a bit on the rocks right now, you know…with his mum and all."

"Yes, I heard about that, it must be so hard," Lily frowned sympathetically. "It's been going on for six years now. He's so kind to go visit her every month."

James smiled easily. "He's a good lad. Always had a big heart."

"Big heart and big mind," Lily nodded. "He says the most fascinating things during prefect rounds, you have no idea. He knows  _so much_ , he literally explained to me about gravitational lensing—did you know about that?"

"The thing with the stars, right?" James grinned. "Remus bloody loves astronomy, despite the lunar phases—" he stopped short suddenly, and Lily raised a brow.

"What about the lunar phases?" Lily asked. "What, did he fail them on the OWLs or something?"

His eyes were wide but they relaxed instantly at Lily's question. "Yeah, he got marked down on the lunar phases and hasn't been happy about them since," James shrugged. "But he spent two hours explaining black holes to Sirius and me, and speed of light, magnetism—his mum's a muggle scientist, you see—she wasn't always, but after Remus was born she ah, found a calling so to speak—so when he's not learning Hogwarts stuff here he's reading muggle science."

"Good for him," Lily was impressed. "He mentioned some of that to me, but I didn't realize his mum was a scientist. I wonder what kind?"

James shrugged. "I can never remember." He glanced over Lily's shoulder with a pout. "I wonder where they've gone off to."

"Alice has been gone a while too…" Lily craned her neck to check the bar, and to her relief she found Alice chatting up with Amelia and Frank. "Never mind."

A strange silence stretched between them, then, as Lily and James glanced about the crowded pub. Lily did not know why she felt like talking to James a bit more, surprised that she hadn't had a single moment of wanting to throw a book at him. The thought made her pause to scrutinize him.

James noticed. "What?"

"We had a civil conversation just now, Potter," Lily crossed her arms over her chest. "I'd jot that down in my diary, if I were you.

James chuckled, inclining his head. "The day is young, Evans. Anything can happen."

Lily smiled warmly. "It's a shame no one was here to witness it."

"Eh, Sirius wouldn't have believed me anyway," James shrugged unaffectedly.

"Where is he, by the way? I wonder if he's sick as well."

"Sick?"

"Hermione wasn't feeling well in the morning and skipped out too," said Lily, worrying her lower lip. "She seemed a bit off…I do hope she's alright."

James regarded her wordlessly.

"What?"

James shook his head. "Nothing, yeah? I'm gonna go look for my friends," he took his glasses off and started cleaning them briskly. "Strange about Hermione, though." Putting his glasses back on, he stood up. Before leaving, he gave one last warm smile. "See you later, Evans."

Lily watched him go, shocked. What had made him leave so abruptly? More importantly, why did it matter so much to Lily that he was gone? Shaking her head, Lily rejoined her friends and quickly forgot all about James Potter and his smiles.

**xxx**

By midday the weather had not calmed down one bit; the snow had stopped but the wind was still going strong, and by then Lily was already quite tired. Departing from her friends who wished to stay longer, Lily slowly trudged back to the castle and imagined herself warm and in a bath, preferably with a heaping mug of hot chocolate.

She went straight to the girls' dormitory, hefting a bag filled with sweets that she bought for Hermione. But when she got there, the dormitory was empty. Puzzled, she checked the shared lavatory and found that empty as well.

"Hermione?" she called.

She heard a crash. It had come from the boys' dormitory.

Had someone else come back? She didn't see anyone else heading back to the castle, nor had anyone elected to stay…she checked the time. The younger students would be having lunch right about now, the dorm should've been empty…narrowing her eyes, Lily took out her wand and stealthily approached the boys' dormitory. If anything, she could call foul play and hand out a few detentions.

She paused by the door and held her breath, listening in for another sound. After a few moments, another loud crash and a string of curses came from inside. Gritting her teeth, Lily turned the doorknob and threw the door open.

"Who's in here?" she demanded. A tuft of hair and a pair of dark eyes peeked over one of the beds. Lily gaped. " _Remus?_ "

"Ah," Remus gave her a stiff smile, then disappeared behind the bed again. Lily strode over towards him and saw his trunk had been thrown open, piles of clothing and books flung around him in disarray.

"I didn't know you came back…bit early for packing, don't you think?"

He didn't look up. "Not packing… _searching_ …."

Lily looked at him questioningly, watching him check on the bottom of his trunk. "A-ha!" he pulled out a small bottle with strange green liquid inside. He stood up and brushed himself off, turning to Lily with a strained smile. "Now, I'd very much like some privacy, please."

"Sure…you look a bit pale, though, are you feeling well?" Lily asked, concerned. Something darkened in Remus's eyes, but he smiled and shook his head.

"I'm absolutely fine. I just need a bit of time alone here, so if you please."

"I don't think...Merlin on a broomstick, is that  _absinthe?_ " Lily's eyes rounded comically once she was finally able to read the label on the bottle. "Where did you get that? You're underage, you can't drink this!"

"I'm three months from being seventeen, it's perfectly fine," Remus placated, starting to usher her towards the door.

"Remus you're a prefect! You can't go around drinking absinthe in the middle of the day! You have to put that back." Lily twisted out of his way and put her hands on her hips. Remus's smile was starting to slip, revealing a very pained and frustrated expression. He was looking paler by the second. Lily shook her head. "You understand I can't let you drink that here, right? You're—I don't even know what to say right now, honestly."

Remus sighed quietly. "It's alright," Remus he nodded slowly. "I'm so sorry I put you in this position, Lily."

Lily started to smile, but it disappeared when he tipped the bottle to his mouth and drank deeply. Shocked, Lily rushed forward to snatch the bottle but Remus evaded her effortlessly, licking his lips while making a face.

"What the hell, Lupin!" Lily shouted angrily. "Don't make me pull my wand at you!"

Remus gazed at Lily in a way that made her stop. Her eyes widened at what she saw reflecting in his eyes. "Please do," he muttered, and Lily was afraid at his sincerity. Her eyes darted to his bedside table, and was shocked to see an empty bottle.

"You drank all that already?" she said weakly, indicating the empty absinthe bottle. Remus shrugged, not meeting her eyes. Pursing her lips, she said softly, "Let's sit down. If you're this determined to get piss drunk, I certainly won't allow you to be alone while you do it."

Remus gave her a guarded look but said nothing. They walked over to his bed and sat down. He took another sip, this one smaller. "It doesn't affect me that much, to be honest," he said quietly. "It takes about two whole bottles of this for me to start feeling anything."

"Hilarious," said Lily dryly, but noticed he was looking with an unmistakable look of seriousness. "What, you're serious? That's impossible."

"Six years ago you didn't even know magic existed, but you think my ability to burn off alcohol faster than the average human is impossible?"

"I…I suppose it does sound silly when you put it that way…." Lily watched him take another swig from the bottle, grimacing as he swallowed. "Can you at least tell me why you're trying to get smashed as fast as possible?"

Silence again. Lily fought not to roll her eyes. "Did something happen with James and Peter? Did you get in a fight?" Remus shook his head. "Is it about Sirius? I saw you tense up when his name came up at the pub." Remus was still for a moment, then shook his head. "God, you're elusive as Hermione, but in a completely opposite way. She's mastered the ability to talk for ages while not saying a single thing. You, on the other hand, refuse to open your mouth. You can see why this is incredibly frustrating for me."

Remus had made the solemn decision to be as unhelpful as possible while Lily sat next to him, but it did not deter Lily for a moment. Remus seemed to be upset, and in a desperate attempt at  _something_ , chose to resort to absinthe for relief. She sat there as he made his way halfway through the bottle, and Lily secretively cast medi-spells on him with her wand to make sure he really was alright. To her amazement, he really wasn't drunk at all; if anything, he was only just starting to get buzzed.

The spell ended up being redundant, however. She knew the moment Remus had become properly drunk: he started to talk.

"Just hurts, y'know?" Remus gazed at the ceiling tiredly. "Everywhere. Bones aching. Smelling everything. You didn't shower this morning. Stuff like that."

Lily spluttered. "How—what?"

Remus waved her away idly. "It's worse in the winters, but this time…bloody hell it hurts. Nobody understands but bless them, they're trying. I'm the coward hiding in my room drinking ruddy absinthe."

Not understanding where he was going, she tried changing the topic. "Any idea where Sirius is? Hermione's missing as well."

Remus snorted loudly. "Ah…together, somewhere. Can't tell. But it hurts…" he drank the last of the bottle, and sent it clattering on the floor.

Lily sighed. He was far gone now, too far gone for Lily to get anything helpful out of him. She expected he'd be passed out in ten minutes anyway, and decided to wait it out until he fell asleep. She glanced longingly at the door, wondering what the bath would've been like had she not ventured to the boys' dormitory. But what Remus had just said…Sirius and Hermione were together somewhere? How would he even know that?

A thought suddenly occurred to her. She looked at him tentatively. "Remus…this is about your mother, isn't it."

Remus paused in his ceiling-gazing, lifting his head to look at Lily properly. He stayed that way for several moments before bursting into laughter.

"My mother!" he snorted, shaking his head carelessly. "Oh, my mother, so beautiful. Got a picture here somewhere…would've been better if she really  _were_  ill rather than me being this way…that's horrible to say, but when you've changed as often as I have…"

"So she's not sick?" said Lily, confused. "Wait— _you're_  sick? Remus," she reached forward and pressed her hand against his forehead and yelped. "Good god, you're burning! That's not normal, people never get that hot!"

"I'm not normal, and I'm not people, so I guess it should be fine," Remus shrugged unconcernedly. He tried to get up. "I think…I have another somewhere…maybe James has it…"

"You are  _not_  drinking another bottle of that vile poison," Lily said firmly, and pushed against his chest so he fell back onto the bed. He made no further attempt to stand. Instead, he resumed his blank gaze at the ceiling. "Perhaps I should get Pomfrey."

Remus smiled humorlessly. "Don't waste your time. She already knows. I'm also thirsty?"

"What is it, then?" Lily inquired with concern. She reached for his hand and found that burning hot as well, but Remus didn't seem to be sweating profusely or shaking.

"Can't you guess? You got straight O's on the OWLs, didn't you? You're smart, Evans, you must've guessed?"

Lily looked at him like he was speaking nonsense, which he  _definitely_  was right now. Drunk Remus was just a patronizing version of Sober Remus, actually spitting out things he normally thought in his head but would filter it into kindness. Lily found it almost amusing.

Right now, however, she was too busy worrying that he had somehow sealed his fate with alcohol poisoning and was itching to call Pomfrey, and shook her head at Remus's question. He rolled his eyes.

"God, Evans, I expected more."

Lily scowled in annoyance. Suddenly Remus sat up, leaning quite close to her, and said, " _Awooooo_." And promptly began to giggle.

That was the last straw. "Remus Lupin I don't care how drunk you are, if you try cat-calling or—or  _dog-calling_  me again, I will hang you upside down in this dormitory and let you stay there until someone finds you!" Lily sprang up from the bed in disgust. Remus was stunned.

"What? No—no you've got it wrong! Oh bloody damn this all, course you wouldn't get it—right, go on, leave already, give me some peace. Door's over there." He gestured behind him and sank back on the bed. "Door is way over there…still here?"

"Still figuring out if I should hex you," Lily snapped.

"You'd better decide quickly, you don't want to see me tomorrow night." Remus finally rolled off the bed and rummaged through his trunk again, glass clinking here and there until—Lily couldn't believe it—another bottle.

"Oh no, no you don't—Remus!" Remus was already drinking and waving Lily's arms away as if swatting a particularly annoying fly. Lily finally managed to swipe the bottle from his hand. "Rum? Do you have a whole store in there or something? What has gotten into you? I can't stand by and watch you do this to yourself anymore!"

"That's not your decision!" Remus snarled, jumping to his feet and trying to snatch the bottle back. "None of this is any of your decisions—getting bitten by a werewolf was certainly not  _my decision!_ Now I am choosing to drink so my bones don't ache as much, and I'm choosing to do this preferably by myself, so pardon me Evans but  _piss off!_ "

Lily's eyes went round, numbly allowing Remus to take the bottle from her motionless fingers. She stood rooted to the spot, watching him sit on the bed and lean against the post, drinking deeply. He stared at his lap as he capped and uncapped the bottle with idle, restless hands, never looking at Lily. Slowly, Lily stepped towards him and sank down next to him on the bed. Remus flinched.

Lily swallowed thickly, and turned to look at him. He…was hunched over, his body tense. The bottle was still, as if he'd lost all interest in it.

"Look at me, Remus."

Remus stiffened. She waited patiently, watching as slowly raised his eyes and slowly turned his head. He wasn't quite looking at her eyes, but every few seconds she'd catch his gaze. He seemed almost afraid.

"When did it happen?" Lily asked softly.

His Adam's apple bobbed before replying stiffly, "Very young. Before I came to Hogwarts."

Lily nodded, waiting a moment before speaking. "James, Peter, and Sirius…they know." It wasn't a question, for she knew the answer. Remus nodded imperceptibly. "Explain to me then, if your best friends already know, why you're sitting in your dormitory drinking by yourself?"

Remus finally looked at her properly, genuine surprise registering on his features. "I…you're not…?"

"No." Lily's gaze was firm. "Never."

Remus looked torn, and he looked down at the bottle. "I told them to stay at Hogsmeade. Said I needed to be alone for a bit. They know I'm drinking."

"They know you're drinking three bottles of absinthe and rum?" Lily raised a brow.

Remus's head lowered. "No. They don't know I drink this much when it gets bad."

Lily inhaled slowly, and shifted a bit so she was sitting close to him. "It's the pre-transformation aches, isn't it? That's why you're using this stuff to numb it down. You know it'll hurt even more after the transformation, right?"

Remus shrugged. "It's the lesser of the evils. I heal much more quickly after I've transformed than before." Despite saying that, though, he let the bottle slip from his hands and drop onto the floor. He turned to look at her, his eyes fierce and piercing.

"You can't tell anyone."

Lily nodded solemnly. "I won't."

"You're not afraid?"

"I'm not."

"You should be."

"Why would I be afraid of you? You feed the birds outside every evening before prefect rounds."

"It's different now."

"…You don't feed the birds anymore, then?"

"You know what I mean, Lily."

"I honestly don't," Lily frowned, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms over her chest. "If you seriously think I, of all people, am going to have problem with you being a little different, you don't know me at all." Remus continued staring at her skeptically, and she punched him lightly on the arm. "C'mon, Lupin, it's not the end of the world. It's just something that's once a month. It doesn't take over your entire identity. Just think about vampires—they can't go in broad daylight or else their skin starts sizzling. That's already loads better than what you've got. And they're completely iron deficient, always needing supplements." Remus stared at her speechlessly. She went on, "And you're not the only one who gets something once a month," Lily gave him a dry look, and Remus's lips started to twitch. "At least yours is for a day, mind is seven damned days of the week. I'd wager my entire life savings that the aches you're feeling are similar to menstrual cramps."

Remus started to laugh, and Lily grinned. "I'm serious! You've never had them, you have no idea! You know they're like labor pains? I literally give fake birth every month. Hormones, higher testosterone levels, soreness, irritability, I mean honestly Remus, you really should've come to me first."

"My mother did tell me she felt like murder every month," Remus remarked, his shoulders shaking with mirth. "At least she doesn't have claws or the mind of a monster."

"You haven't met my sister," Lily said darkly, and Remus laughed harder. She bumped her shoulder against his. "We've all learned everything there is about werewolves, Remus. I don't have a problem with you turning into one sometimes. It's who we are inside that matters."

Remus smiled at her kindly. "Thank you, Lily."

Lily smiled back, patting his back. "Now, no more of this. I suspect the full moon is tomorrow, right? Right. If you asked me, I'd come down to the dormitory and stuff my face with all this chocolate I bought today. They were for Hermione, but I'm sure she won't mind if I shared."

Remus smiled tentatively. Convinced, he and stood up with her to head to the common room and paused, wobbling just a bit. He suddenly looked very green. "Oh. This is no good."

Lily tapped her foot patiently as he bolted for the bathroom.

Once he was done (he was a much less wobbly and a lot more grumpy that he'd expelled all the  _expensive_ alcohol), they sat in front of the fireplace and Lily shoved five chocolate frogs in his mouth with several coconut balls, a heaping of fudge flies, and several cups of tea. She listened patiently as he spoke, nodding every once in a while, but allowed Remus the explosive rant that had been on his mind for what she suspected to be a very long time.

Once he had finished, an amiable silence now between them, Lily checked her watch and glanced about the room. "I think I should check the infirmary. Maybe Hermione is there. I'm getting worried now."

"Why would she be there?"

"She wasn't feeling well earlier, it's why she didn't come to Hogsmeade today. I just hope she's alright."

Remus looked at her carefully, not saying anything. James had given her an eerily identical look at the pub earlier. Lily scowled.

"What is it? Why does everyone look at me that way when I mention Hermione?"

"She…she hasn't told you anything else?"

"No…should she have?"

"No," said Remus firmly.

Lily looked at him oddly, then thought back to what he had said when he was getting drunk. "You said Sirius was with her," she said slowly. "Earlier, you said that. How do you know that?"

"I'm sorry I said that," Remus said immediately, and the look in his eyes told her he was being genuine. "That's not my story to tell. I shouldn't have mentioned this at all, forget I said anything."

"I sure as hell can't forget anything now, Remus." she tilted her head incredulously.

Remus put his cup down and looked at her seriously. "Everybody has their secrets, Lily. Sometimes you have to trust that they'll tell you when they're ready."

Lily sat quietly for a moment. Then she asked, "Does Hermione know that you're a werewolf?"

Remus blinked. "…Yes. She's the only other one to know."

Lily stared down her chocolate frog, lost in thought.

**xxx**

As the fire erupted from her wand tip, enveloping her in a blanket of coiling, hissing flames, Sirius's grey eyes reflected red.

Fiendfyre was both wild and tame, forming into the shape of a dragon and spreading it's fiery wings with a deafening roar. He could hear it screaming; a shrill, chilling sound that didn't quite resemble a human. In just a second the metal room was filled with malice and evil and rage like Sirius had never witnessed before…

And yet, it was impossible to look away. His eyes were watering at the intensity of the light, his lungs starting to struggle against smoke in the air, but it was almost as if he were in a trance. In the midst of the chaos stood Hermione, gently circling her wand in the air and the flames obediently followed her moves, never straying from her intent. They weren't even close to the ledge, much to Sirius's astonishment. He watched her as she stared down at the shrieking horcrux with a smile, before suddenly starting to laugh.

At that moment, something compelled Sirius to look at Snape. His face was calm, not going through nearly as much turmoil as Sirius was…the sight was familiar to him, the heat of the fiendfyre curse was something that didn't unnerve Snape as much as it did to Sirius.

The fire disappeared. The horcrux was dead, Hermione was still and unhurt, and Sirius let the door open to let the fumes of the fire escape. The stone was intact, but Hermione assured them the soul was most definitely dead. Looking at it all made his stomach turn.

"Let's head back," Sirius suggested quietly. "I think we've spent long enough in here."

Snape closed the trap door and they all shuffled into the tunnel, making the long trip back to the castle. It was quiet, with somewhat less triumph than Sirius had expected. The horcrux was destroyed, they snuck in and out of the castle without being caught or disturbed…for all intents and purposes, he should've been happy. They all should have.

Yet the tired frowns on Snape and Hermione said otherwise. They'd done this before, Hermione had done it three times now, and they did not seem surprised by the aftermath. It was a victory for their hunt, but not as satisfying as Sirius thought it would be. Instead, it left him feeling wrong inside…and sad.

Snape quickly headed for the dungeons, leaving Sirius and Hermione to make their way quietly back to Gryffindor tower.

"That was…something," said Sirius.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah."

"Is it always like that?"

"Like what?"

Sirius shrugged. "Just…that."

"The first time was a disaster," Hermione explained. "I almost burned down the Shrieking Shack. The second time was a little better, but I still didn't have complete control until the very end. Almost burned down the forest. This time was the first time I had total control." She paused. "It was…exhilarating."

Sirius glanced at her. "You liked it?"

"I…no. No," she repeated more firmly. "I don't like dark magic. It's just. Holding that much power, you have no idea what it feels like until it's under your control. I've never felt anything like it before."

Sirius made no reply for the rest of the walk up the staircase. The common room was full, students chatting excitedly about the upcoming Christmas holiday while some played a tournament of Exploding Snap.

Sirius checked the time and groaned. "Oh bloody hell, we missed dinner."

"Did we really?" said Hermione, crestfallen. "Want to grab something from the kitchens?"

"Yeah, sure. But I'm not going anywhere until I've had a good long shower. I still smell like that old shack."

Hermione agreed and headed straight for the girls' dormitory, sharing Sirius's sentiments; she wanted nothing more than to scrub Little Hangleton and the horcrux from her body.

After a long shower, Hermione went back into the dormitory as she dried off her hair. She caught sight of Lily sitting on her bed with a book propped in her lap.

"Had fun at Hogsmeade?" said Hermione, walking up to her.

Lily glanced up, closing the book. "A bit," said Lily. "I couldn't find you when I got back. Where've you been?"

"Oh, the library," Hermione replied easily. "I always finish up the assignments before holidays start."

"Really? I was just there, I didn't see you." She held up the book in her lap, the cover titled  _Moste Potente Potions_. Hermione faltered.

"Ah, right, well, I went for a walk afterwards."

"And are you feeling better?"

"Hm?" Hermione blinked. "Oh, yes! I feel completely fine now."

Lily narrowed her eyes for a fraction of a second, but quickly dismissed it and reopened her book. "I bought you some sweets from Honeydukes," she pointed to Hermione's bed. "I hope you don't mind Remus and me went through some already."

"Not at all," Hermione grinned as she went to her bed and perused through the bag. "Thank you so much." Lily smiled silently. Hermione quickly refolded the bag and pulled on a red jumper. "Well, off to get whatever's left of dinner."

Lily bade her goodbye, and with that Hermione left the dormitory and went back to the common room. James was loudly complaining about a faulty card, and Remus wasn't having any of it. Sirius was hovering over them watching the game, but at Hermione's approach he detached from the crowd and walked alongside her towards the portrait hole. His hair was damp against his head, and she could smell the soap he'd used. It was oddly soothing.

Once they reached the portrait to the kitchens, Sirius reached over and tickled the pear. Suddenly, he paused.

"I've an idea," he said mildly. "Go to the room of requirement. I'll meet you there with the food."

Hermione's eyebrows rose high, disappearing behind her bangs. "Why?"

"Just do it, will you?"

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "I'm really hungry, Sirius. It's been a long day."

"I know, which is why you should go and rest in the room and I'll bring the food. Damn it, just listen to me for once, yeah?" Sirius looked at her earnestly, and Hermione sighed.

"Fine. Don't be long."

Sirius flashed a smile before disappearing behind the portrait. Hermione grimaced and tiredly began her ascent to the seventh floor again, wondering why Sirius had changed his mind so suddenly. Once inside the room of requirement, Hermione sank into a squishy emerald armchair and sat before a roaring fire, hoping Sirius would not be too long.

He arrived ten minutes later, hefting several boxes that were presumably filled with food. He set them on a table nearby and grunted.

"Damn, those were heavy," he groaned, rolling his shoulder back and forth. Hermione jumped out of the armchair and made for the row of boxes. Just from the smell her mouth was watering, catching the tantalizing scent of boiled potatoes and roasted chicken. Just as her hand reached to open a box, Sirius slapped it away.

"Uh-uh. Not yet. First, we practice."

"Practice what?" Hermione snapped. At his stare, Hermione crumpled. "Animagus training?  _Now?_  Gods we've been at it for months, and I've got as close to transforming as muggles are to suddenly sprout magic!"

"Exactly why you've got to keep at it," Sirius said sternly. "I told you before that we'd be practicing every day. We lost a few days from researching the Gaunts and preparing for our midterm examinations, and I'll be damned if we lose today too. If you want to win this thing in the long run, you  _have_ to keep at it."

"But—but can't I at least eat something first?" Hermione pleaded.

Sirius shook his head. "You'll have to work for it."

Hermione hated him very much right then, glaring up at him as if she could will him to disappear. She marched towards the center of the room, her hands in little fists, and closed her eyes.

To some extent she could see the logic in what he was saying. He was right in that they'd lost a few days of practice, and in order to succeed she had to train every single day. Though dangling food in front of her was just cruel.

"Not so tense," she heard Sirius say in front of her. She felt him tap at her hands. "Loosen those up, you're blocking all the energy in your body by being so stiff." Hermione loosened her fists and willed herself to relax, but she was still too angry to really comply. She heard him sigh.

"Look, I know you're mad. But if you eat right now you're going to get too sleepy and you won't be able to train at all. Give it an hour at least and then you can eat."

Hermione peeled one eye open, noting that Sirius was not eating either. Her resolve weakened, and she gave a slight nod. Shaking out her hands, she forced herself to relax and tried to find the magical energy flowing within her.

Darkness, darkness, darkness…one would think the color of closed eyelids would change, but no…she starting thinking about the roast chicken and her stomach whined pitifully…she could smell Sirius's soap still, he must be standing close by her…

A thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Hey Sirius?"

"Hm?"

"You can feel magical signatures, right?"

"Correct."

"Have you ever tried to pinpoint them? Like, for example…see where someone's magical energy is circulating and concentrated in?"

"Er, no. That's incredibly hard. I don't even think it's possible."

Hermione opened her other eye.. "I don't think so. I know there's people who can sense spiritual energy, it's a muggle practice. I don't see why magical energy should be any different."

"And do you know how these muggles  _find_  that energy?" Sirius said doubtfully.

Hermione her lip. "No. But you've somewhat trained yourself how to sense magical energy, and can definitely find it in yourself, right?" Sirius nodded. "Well, just use that fine-tuned acuity on other people. It could become a very useful ability in the future."

"Like with the shack today," Sirius said quietly. He heaved a sigh. "Why not, then. It's not like I've got anything better to do while you practice, anyway."

With that, they both stood before each other with their eyes closed in concentration. Hermione ignored how her stomach was starting to growl, pushing her thoughts towards the hidden magic resting inside her. She could tell a lot of time was passing, for her legs were growing more and more tired from standing.

Sirius gasped.

Hermione opened her eyes, and Sirius was staring intently at Hermione. "What?"

Sirius shook his head wordlessly, slowly reaching his hand towards her arm. "Hermione…" he breathed, glancing about her. "I can see it."

Hermione's eyes widened. " _Really?_  Already?" Sirius nodded fervently, astonished himself. "How long's it been? My god, an hour and a half! You can see magical energy within an hour and a half, Sirius! Do you realize just how brilliant you are?"

Sirius's mouth parted in disbelief, staring at her as if she were made of gold. "I can see," he whispered. "Oh, Hermione. It's beautiful."

"What does it look like?" she asked excitedly. "Where is it flowing?"

"Everywhere. It's everywhere, everything. It's radiating all around you, inside you, so gently…" he shook his head incredulously. "Before I could picture it, you know? I had a mental map of where my magic was; I could sense it inside me. I think that's what helped me find it so quickly, I was concentrating hard on it."

"You have a natural ability for this, Sirius, don't sell yourself short," Hermione grasped his shoulders, giving them an encouraging squeeze as she grinned up at him. Sirius glanced down at her hands and took them in her own, studying them in awe.

"Here," he held up her hand and traced her palm. "It swirls here, running up to your fingers, then up your arm…" his index finger trailed up to her shoulder, then sloped down her collar bone. "It radiates up and down, every direction…" his finger trailed down, reaching just above the valley of her breasts. Hermione's breath quickened, looking up at Sirius, but he was lost in thought. "I wish you could see this. It's a part of you, it's a second skin, a second skeleton. You are magic."

Hermione gazed up at him, feeling suddenly weightless, as Sirius looked at her reverently. She closed her eyes then and thought of the beauty Sirius had just described to her. She felt for something that wasn't separate from her, but woven  _inside_  her, as if it were surrounding her and filling her in every direction. She reached further and further, losing all trace of thought, forgetting where she was standing. And suddenly, as if a light had turned on in her mind, she felt a surge of power.

Startled, Hermione staggered back and flew open her eyes. She could feel something very faint thrumming inside her, reverberating persistently. She looked wildly to Sirius, who watched her silently. "I—" she croaked. "I…" She looked at Sirius helplessly. He reached forward slowly and gently closed her eyelids with his thumbs.

The effect was immediate. She could  _feel it_ ; magic was coursing through her, surrounding her, as if she were a limitless source of energy. She whimpered, breathing shallowly, and overwhelmed with what she was experiencing. While she couldn't see what Sirius was, her mind was formulating images of what the sensation felt like, mapping where the energy was circulating inside her.

When she finally opened her eyes, they were moist. "I found it," she breathed. Sirius's lips twitched upwards.

"Let's eat, Hermione."

**xxx**

Lily and Hermione stood in the empty classroom, setting up for their next S.P.E.W. meeting two hours before it was to start. They placed soft cushions in place of desks, as their spells today would be the hands-on defensive kind. Alice strode in a minute later with several more cushions filling her arms.

"Do you think this'll be enough?" Alice put her hands on her hips as the three girls inspected their work.

"It should be," said Lily approvingly. "I've put an anti-sliding charm on them so there won't be any mishaps with the cushions."

Hermione walked over to the table near the front of the room, sorting through her notes on the history of House-Elves. She'd been taking extensive notes the past few weeks, even gathering up her old works from the purse she'd taken from her time. It was exhaustive but effective; the students no longer complained when Hermione brought up the topic of Elfish rights, and even managed engaging them in a heated debate that lasted an hour after the defense meeting had ended. Hermione smiled privately, pleased that she was doing something right.

She heard a knock on the door, and Hermione frowned. "It's too early for anyone to show up."

"Maybe it's a professor?" Lily suggested, looking suspiciously at the door. Hermione strode to the door and opened it, blinking in shock when she saw who stood before her.

"Am I…am I early?" Regulus asked, his voice low. Hermione couldn't find an answer, too shocked to reply. By then, Lily and Alice had come by the door as well, curiosity getting the better of them.

"Black?" Lily raised an eyebrow. "You want to join a club about House-Elves?"

"You've spoken to Scabior, then," Hermione finally managed to say evenly. Regulus nodded silently.

"Scabior? That Slytherin boy who winked at me a few weeks ago?" Lily made a face. "This club is serious, Black."

"I know," he replied quietly. "I came for the defensive training."

Alice inhaled sharply, and Lily's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about that?"

Regulus flushed. "Nobody you don't like knows about it, if that's what you're afraid of."

"How would you know what I'm afraid of?"

Regulus scowled, starting to get annoyed. "I thought this club invited all students who wish to defend themselves. I didn't realize it was House-exclusive."

"It's not," Hermione said firmly, and opened the door wider for him to pass through. "Come on in."

Regulus sauntered slowly inside, looking boldly at Alice and Lily as he passed them by. Alice held back a laugh.

Lily and Alice went back to organizing the room, leaving Hermione and Regulus alone. "So," Hermione started unsurely. "Sessions are usually two to three hours. We start with some spellwork, practice on each other, and end with a lesson on Elfish history."

Regulus nodded in understanding. "Good lesson, House-Elves. I have one back home that I'm really fond of."

"It'd be even fonder if that Elf had the choice to serve you," Hermione couldn't help but reply.

She expected some kind of annoyed response, but to Hermione's surprise, Regulus said, "You're right. Wizards can be terrible like that. It takes them…a long time to change. And admit they've been a bit of an ass. They avoid the problem most of the time, thinking it'd make the situation better, but all it does is make them feel alone. But what most don't realize is it's not because they don't agree with House Elf rights, it's the fear of change. The fear of admitting they were wrong…and the pride. As my grandfather used to say, sorry is for commoners."

"You're not your grandfather," Hermione noted.

"No," said Regulus. "I'm not."

Hermione smiled. And slowly, Regulus smiled too.

**xxx**

The final week before break went by in a flurry of broken inkpots and frantically written essays. The last of their midterms were completed, and with much relief the students boarded the Hogwarts Express for a glorious Christmas holiday. Somehow Lily, Alice, Hermione, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter—and sometimes Lily's other friends Amelia, Frank, Sturgis Podmore, and two other sixth year Hufflepuffs—fit into the cramped compartment. Sirius had decided that the only natural solution was to sit in Remus's lap with his arms looped around his shoulders.

"Shove off," Remus laughed as he tried to push Sirius off. Sirius sighed dramatically.

"Great friend you are," Sirius said sadly, dropping his arms by his sides. "There isn't any other room, Remus old friend, and you're the closest one near me."

"Come here, then, Sirius. Remus won't know what he's missing out on," James held out his arms, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Sirius grinned and left Remus instantly, settling against James.

" _Much_ better," Sirius said smugly.

"Too true, dear."

"You mean deer."

"No, that's me."

Lily snorted. "You're all a riot, you know that?"

"I think the whole faculty and student body at Hogwarts knows that," Hermione said darkly.

"So what are you plans this break?" asked Lily.

James shrugged. "The usual. We'll have Christmas ball and dinner. I've been trying to persuade mum to buy a tellyvision for our house—"

"What!" Hermione squealed loudly, a huge smile on her face. "You didn't tell me! Oh my gosh! Did you mention the telephone? Please mention the television and the telephone, Merlin the marathons I want to show you—"

"If you're having marathons I hope you know I'll be there with you," said Lily with a mischievous smile. James brightened considerably at this, and announced very loudly that he would most definitely be home the entire break.

Once the train finally rolled to a stop, the friends went their separate ways. Sirius, James, and Hermione reached Godric's Hollow with excitement, as Dorea and Charlus had been particularly tight-lipped about any progress with acquiring a television or phone.

The moment they stepped inside, they knew. Hermione never realized how much she missed these simple muggle things, things that had been a staple of her childhood. She went straight for the phone and dialed the number Lily had given her before leaving the train, and she beamed when she heard Lily's voice on the other end.

Hermione didn't find the television plugged in, but it seemed to be picking up the service just fine; the same went for the telephone wire. Charlus came up to her and patted her on the hand. "We'll be sending a muggle check every month, don't worry my dear. Getting the entire house fitted for these things was simply too much to think about for Dorea and me."

"That's perfectly fine," said Hermione, unable to contain her grin. "You have no idea how happy this makes me. It really reminds me of my old home."

Charlus gave her a warm hug and set her off to the television, where she flipped through the channels until Sirius made her stop.

"I've seen their posters in muggle London! Famous musicians," Sirius sat close to the T.V. appreciatively, crossing his legs. James sat down next to him, both entranced by the television.

"There's programs too," Hermione explained. "James, you remember, right? When we were at Lily's house?"

"Like it was yesterday," said James, and reached for the knob. "Sirius, mate, look how it's done…"

**xxx**

Winter break was passing slower but all the more happier. For the first time Hermione wasn't too worried about anything, or preoccupied by what others must be thinking about her. She wasn't in an argument with Severus, or Sirius, or James; she wasn't fighting off a resisting horcrux that was slowly poisoning her mind; in fact, Hermione felt better than she had in years.

She suspected it had to do with how the term had gone by, ending with Hermione being able to sense her magical energy circulating inside her. Now that she had a handle on her own magic, she was finding casting spells much easier and simply living day by day that much more refreshing. It was as if she had awoken into a different person, one who appreciated every second that ticked by. She no longer felt suspended in time, plucked from her friends and family with a destiny she hadn't really wanted. She felt liberated, stronger, and eager to find the remaining two horcruxes and be rid of Voldemort once and for all. A tiny part of her feared what would happen when she would come face to face with him. She tried not to think about that part for the time being.

Hermione was sorting through her bookcase when she heard a knock. Padding quietly to the door, she wasn't surprised to see Sirius.

"Did you forget how to increase the volume again?" Hermione asked, already heading out the door.

"No, no, it's not about the tele. Would you come in my room for a minute?"

Hermione followed him curiously into his room that was directly across from hers, wondering why he was bringing her in. Now that she thought about it, she never actually saw the entirety of his room before, just vague glimpses here and there when she paid attention. Upon entering it, however, she noted how clean it was inside, with a few Quidditch posters taped to the walls and several rock bands scattered behind his bed. He reached for a magazine that was on his bed and showed it to her.

"Automotives?" Hermione read, puzzled. "What about them?"

"You're familiar with the muggle world more than any of us," Sirius scratched the back of his head. "I've been thinking for a while—a few years, to be exact—about buying one of these." He pointed to the end of a page.

"You want a motorcycle." She looked at the vintage motorcycle—well, vintage to  _her_ —with a faint smile.

Sirius saw it and smiled nervously. "What is it?"

Hermione looked at him cheerfully. "A motorcycle will be good for you."

"You think so?" Sirius laughed lightly, relieved. "I mentioned it in passing to James a few months ago and he was a bit skeptical, but I don't plan on just using it for the road. I'm thinking of enchanting it to fly."

Hermione nodded, already having known this. "It'll be a lot of work," she reminded. "You'll have to get it properly with a license and muggle money, then wait until you're seventeen to start enchanting it."

"That's fine," Sirius beamed, looking at the magazine excitedly. "So, do you know which of these would be best? I got this dictionary from the library a few days ago, it tells you all the terminology and parts of the motorcycle so I can get an understanding of it…"

Hermione flipped through the pages and stopped the moment her eyes fell on a familiar motorcycle. She stared at it for quite a while, thinking back to when she'd seen pictures of it in Grimmauld Place.

"This one," she pointed at the motorcycle before her. Sirius took the magazine and roved his eyes over the paper. "This one will be perfect."

"I was leaning towards that one too," Sirius sat down on the bed and drew a circle on the bike with a marker. "What makes you like this one the most?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just suits you, I guess."

"What about it suits me?" Sirius asked with a glint in his eye. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh you know, the standards. Long hair, leather jacket, mysterious persona—"

"I'm mysterious?" Sirius couldn't help but laugh.

"Not much, but you  _look_ it. It's a world's difference."

Hermione joined in his laughter, relishing the way the bridge of his nose crinkled just a bit and the way his grey eyes lit up when he smiled from the heart. It was so different from last year,  _they_ were so different from who they were last September. No longer burdened with as much misery and distrust, Sirius and Hermione had changed irreversibly.

"Your magic flares a bit when you're happy," Sirius observed quietly, his eyes soft. A smile tugged at Hermione's lips.

"What does it look like now?"

Sirius smiled faintly.

A loud  _crack_  sent Sirius and Hermione off the bed and with their wands pulled out, staring at two figures that suddenly appeared in Sirius's bedroom.

"Kreacher?" Hermione blanched.

" _Regulus?_ " Sirius blurted, lowering his wand instantly. "What's going on? Why are you here?" Hermione noticed Kreacher was holding onto Regulus's leg unsteadily.

"It's You-Know-Who," said Regulus, crouching down to steady Kreacher gently. "He's hurt Kreacher with a potion, I don't know which. He's…he's done something terrible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! xx


	21. The Cave

**Chapter 21**

_The Cave_

Regulus Black stared idly at the heavy book in his hands, wiping off a bead of sweat that was inching slowly down his temple. He lost all interest in  _Malum Nocte_ hours ago, but its disjointed prose and elusive themes had been distracting enough for Regulus to forget the burning of his skin and the weakness in his arms. To his right, a little figure was bent down by the fireplace in his room, tending to the flickering flames.

"Kreacher," he rasped, and immediately the little elf sprang up from the fireplace and was by his side.

"Yes, Master Regulus?"

He gestured weakly to the window on his left. "I'd like some fresh air, please."

The elf's eyes boggled. "Master must keep warm if he wants to get well quickly," he squeakily reminded, emphasizing it by tucking Regulus in more firmly.

"I know," said Regulus with a sigh, "but it is hot. And I am already much better than before, thanks to the tonics you gave me."

Kreacher looked torn, but he gently patted Regulus's hand. "Just a crack, if it makes Master happy." And quick as a mouse, he cracked open the window, letting a steady stream of cold air into the room. Regulus sighed in relief.

"Thank you."

Just then the door to his room opened, revealing his mother in her usual long, billowing, black dress. She frowned down at Kreacher. "How is my son, now, Kreacher?"

Kreacher bobbed his head in a deep bow, replying fervently, "He is doing well under Kreacher's care, Mistress! He is most improved already!"

"Good," she nodded curtly in approval. She turned to Regulus. "You should be fully restored by tomorrow, I expect. Our stores of healing potions are the best in the country, and this is just a cold."

That was as close to a 'feel better' as Regulus could hope for from his mother, and he smiled weakly. She sniffed. "Though how you became sick is beyond me."

"It's just a cold," he shrugged slightly. Walburga observed him with narrowed eyes, before moving close by his bedside. Her hand reached out to gently brush the damp bangs from his eyes. A soft smile lifted Regulus's lips.

Walburga dropped her hand and walked away. "Dinner will be brought to your room." The door closed quietly behind her.

"Mistress is pleased today," Kreacher nodded as he returned to tending the fire.

Regulus shifted so he could sit better, and reopened his book. "That's not always a good thing, Kreacher." His eyes roved tiredly over the verses, squinting at fine print. "Gods, it's as if an insect had written these poems. Do you know which edition this is?"

Kreacher hobbled forward and took the book from Regulus's hands, pressing the cover against his large ear as if listening.

"This is an original, Master Regulus," Kreacher handed the book back, and Regulus's eyebrows rose. "As are most of the books in the library of the Noble House of Black."

"Not surprising," Regulus murmured. "The tragedy of nobility is limited access to legible books. My mum would consider it an insult to the family if she saw a sixth or seventh edition in this house."

Kreacher humored Regulus with a smile, and went back to his work. Regulus flipped back to where he had left off, squinting.

_And mark his hours I did_

_With prowess alone we stood apart_

_Wrought with fear he hid_

_To keep the embers from his heart_

 

_But I was torn asunder_

" _Lo!" I wept in the night_

_His body fell dead under_

_The green embers of light._

"Medieval sentiment," Regulus mumbled, turning over and quickly falling asleep.

**xxx**

The smell of hot broth awoke him.

Regulus rubbed his eyes and found a tray of food on his bedside table. He was feeling much less clammy and hot, and found he had a raging appetite that was long-overdue. He still felt weak as he shifted into a sitting position, his arms trembling as he tried to pick up the tray. It clattered loudly to the floor.

"Damn it," Regulus cursed. Kreacher popped into the room, having sensed the disturbance and promptly began cleaning up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to drop it—"

"No apologies Master, it is Kreacher's fault for not waiting for you to awaken." With a snap of his fingers the tray refilled with food and he set it carefully on Regulus's lap.

"It's not," Regulus said firmly. "But thank you."

Kreacher beamed, swelling with adoration. "Is there anything else Kreacher can do for you? Would you like more pillows? Shall I read your book to you while you eat?"

Regulus gulped down some soup and was pleased that he could finally taste it properly, licking his lips at the savory broth. "Whatever you like, Kreacher."

Kreacher was frozen in indecision again, still not quite used to the liberties Regulus allowed him so frequently. Though he had served the family since before Regulus's birth, he was quite taken by Regulus the most out of all of them. Regulus also felt a kind of affection for the House-Elf, as Kreacher had been his sole companion for the better part of his childhood—apart from Sirius, of course, before he had started at Hogwarts.

"I will read to Master Regulus," Kreacher decided, and picked up the heavy book before settling on the foot of the bed. Quietly, he began to read.

" _Lo!" I wept in the night_

_His body fell dead under_

"Next verse," Regulus mumbled as he took a bite of bread. "I read that already."

Kreacher nodded quickly, and turned the page.

_Two I had become_

_One less than the other_

_A monstrous thing I'd done_

_To sacrifice another_

 

_Then came Death, who showed me how to conceal_

" _In a hilt," said Death wisely, "It is last to break."_

_I cried, "But what if someone were to steal?"_

_And Death laughed with glee, "That was your mistake."_

 

Regulus frowned. "I don't understand. What is he trying to hide? The man he killed?"

Kreacher shook his head furiously. "No. He tries to hide himself."

"Himself?" Regulus repeated. "How can he hide himself in a sword hilt?"

Kreacher shook his head again, looking at him emphatically. "Master misunderstands. It is the Dark Magic he must hide. It is himself he must hide."

"There was a second spell?" Regulus's brows furrowed curiously. "Have you heard of this before, then?"

Kreacher suddenly went stiff, his mouth pressed firmly in a line. Regulus recognized that look.

"It's alright to tell me," Regulus said kindly. "I shan't mention it to anyone in this house."

Kreacher's ears drooped, and he clutched the book tightly to his chest.

"It is Old Magic," Kreacher whispered, his big eyes bulging in fright. "The most evil in the world."

Regulus leaned closer, waiting with bated breath. But without warning, Kreacher disappeared.

Regulus blinked. He barely had time to process what had happened before Kreacher returned with a  _pop_ , looking wild.

"Mistress says to get ready!" He squeaked, grabbing the tray and spelling it away. He threw off Regulus's covers and prodded him out of bed. Luckily the soup and bread had given Regulus enough energy not to sway on his feet.

"What? Why?" Regulus said crossly.

"Guests are to arrive, guests Mistress fears," Kreacher moaned, and pushing Regulus towards the bathroom and shoving a fresh set of clothes into his hands. "They will be here within the hour! Quickly, Master!"

Alarmed, Regulus took the clothes and showered as fast as his body would allow. He knew better than to resist, for these particular meetings were often sudden and important. He dressed quickly and took the Pepper-Up potion Kreacher held out for him, drinking it in one gulp.

Regulus descended to the parlor where his mother and father sat waiting. Walburga was anxiously wringing her hands, and jumped up from her armchair the moment she saw him arrive.

"Thank goodness," she said, relieved, and reached forward to smooth down his hair. "We only just got the owl. We are to have a special audience this evening."

"From whom?" asked Regulus. Walburga only stared back quietly. Regulus's heart stuttered a beat.

Numbly, he walked over to the sofa and waited. Kreacher was standing far behind them, waiting for his orders, and Regulus almost wished he was not the elf to attend to them; it would have been much safer for Kreacher to go the kitchens. It felt like hours had passed until the first knock came. Regulus swallowed as he watched Kreacher dart forward to open the door.

He returned to the parlor, bowing deeply until his nose touched the floor. "The Dark Lord has arrived."

He was thinner and more frightening than Regulus last remembered, his gaze cold and penetrative. Regulus exhaled evenly and chanted in his mind the things Snape had taught him.  _Close your mind…close your mind…_

"It is an honor to have you in our home again," Walburga curtsied, and Orion stood promptly and bowed. Regulus inclined his head.

"I have been impressed by your loyalty these few months," Voldemort replied, smiling. "I admit, I had little hope left for this family, though noble and pure it is. But the servitude of your son, however, has been….most excellent."

Regulus bowed again. "It was only right, my lord. Your path is the true path."

The words felt like venom in his mouth, but the came out smoothly, softly, like silk. Voldemort's smile deepened.

"So young," Voldemort looked at Regulus, his long nails gripping his shoulder. "But so wise." He released his grip and stepped away. "In truth, I have come for assistance. I require a House-Elf…for a time being."

Regulus's eyes widened a fraction. He glanced briefly at his mother, whose mouth was pressed in a line. She averted her gaze purposefully behind them. Regulus turned back to Voldemort.

"Our most loyal House-Elf will service you," Regulus said boldly. He turned his head to the back of the parlor. "Kreacher, come."

The House-Elf startled, but rushed forward instantly. "It would be an honor for Kreacher, and for our family, to serve the dark lord."

Voldemort smiled thinly, coming off as more of a sneer. "Excellent." He whirled around and sent his black cloak fluttering behind him, striding out of the parlor. Regulus crouched down and leaned forward, quietly muttering in Kreacher's ear, "The second your mission with Lord Voldemort is complete, return straight to me."

Kreacher nodded feverishly, and quickly left the parlor. Regulus knew the moment they had gone, for a quiet stillness like no other filled the manor. He started to feel ill again, his head dizzy and unfocused. It seemed would have to ask for another elf to deliver his tonics.

Regulus glanced at his mother, and walked away without a word.

**xxx**

A week passed and still Kreacher did not return. Regulus began to grow restless, distractedly eating his meals and frequently glancing out his window. He was afraid Voldemort would return again, this time asking for Regulus himself.

_This is the price of loyalty_ , Regulus thought bitterly. His attempt to prove he could be trusted meant more would be asked of him. Impressing the dark lord was no little feat, and in doing so Regulus had irreversibly tied himself even closer to him. The very thought made Regulus's stomach turn in disgust.  _This is the price of curiosity_.

Regulus shook the thought away. Curiosity was not the villain here. He glared at his hands, squeezing them into fists. The blood in his veins, the name embedded into his identity, were to blame for this particular misery.  _And love_ , the back of his mind reminded.  _Love for your mother_.

Regulus made an irritated noise and collapsed back onto his bed. He picked up  _Malum Nocte_ again and attempted to read through it, but was still pondering on the verses that Kreacher had hinted at. The entire book was a poetic retelling, thought to be the true accounts of the earliest wizards of existence. Regulus had taken it as fictional poppycock with elements of dark magic being practiced for the first time, but there was something more to it that he was still unable to quite grasp. There was something hidden in the prose, something so obvious but was evading Regulus. And as it was in his nature to obsess until he found a solution, Regulus returned to the passage that puzzled him the most.

_Before my ashes the woman sighs_

_With victory and hilt in hand_

_Avenged her betrothed with my demise_

_She returned to her homeland_

 

_Yet in her hand I grew stronger built_

_The half-life no longer small_

_Until I sprang from the cursed hilt_

_And struck her down to fall._

 

Regulus flipped through the next pages, unimpressed by the other wizards' stories. The rest was mere retellings of landmarks and cursed runes, all things Regulus had read before over and over. Dark magic was abundant in the books he'd read, and reading them in poems did not change much. The only part that struck him were these verses, written near the end of the book, filed under the chapter  _Exsecratus_.

"'Two I had become, one less than the other'," Regulus recited, his fingers pressing into the lines. "A monstrous thing…and then hiding himself in the hilt…"

Had he somehow torn himself into two pieces? Regulus didn't understand how that would be feasible, but he humored the idea nonetheless. If he tore himself in two, it meant he hid one part of himself in his sword hilt…then he'd been burned to death, but part of him was still alive.… _Ah_ , Regulus thought with a smile. It was starting to make sense.

He almost didn't hear the faint  _pop_  that entered the room, so distracted he had become by his discovery. Regulus glanced up from his book and saw Kreacher, sprawled and unconscious on the floor.

"Kreacher!"

Kneeling down, Regulus turned the House-Elf onto his back and tried shaking him awake. "Kreacher! Wake up!" He moved him to his side and pounded on his back, and Kreacher took a sharp, gasping breath.

"Water—Master—water—I beg—"

"Yes, yes," Regulus hastily grabbed the goblet from his table and pointed his wand inside it. " _Aguamenti!_ "

It filled instantly, and he tipped the cup to Kreacher's mouth. He refilled it four more times before Kreacher finally calmed down, but a wild, glazed look still remained in his eyes.

"What happened, Kreacher? What did he make you do?"

Kreacher shook uncontrollably, feebly clutching Regulus's arm. "He made Kreacher drink," Kreacher rasped, his eyes downcast in fear. "He took Kreacher to a cave and forced us to drink a terrible potion, hurting Kreacher. Then he laughed and left Kreacher to die."

He coughed violently, and Regulus summoned another House-Elf to bring him some food and assess if Kreacher needed any healing potions.

"No potions!" Kreacher panicked, jumping to his feet. "No more potions!"

"Alright, alright," Regulus said, alarmed, as Kreacher swayed heavily on his feet. "Leela, just bring the food, then."

"Yes, Master Regulus." With a bow, she disappeared.

Regulus returned his attention to Kreacher. "If you have the strength, I'd like to hear from the beginning what the dark lord did."

Regulus could tell the mysterious potion was affecting Kreacher still; he would pause in his story to clutch his head, muttering under his breath, and Regulus sometimes caught snatches of words of "keep safe" and "not my fault"; more often, however, he heard Kreacher utter his name. Leela returned with a small plate of food and Regulus encouraged Kreacher to eat it, and when he refused Regulus decided to feed him himself. Perhaps it was this that shocked Kreacher into awareness, for almost immediately Kreacher's eyes glistening with tears and shoveled down every bite by himself.

When Kreacher finally finished his story, Regulus was frowning deeply.

"A locket?" Regulus repeated. "He did all this…to hide a  _locket?_  But that's…"

"More than a locket," Kreacher muttered and closed his eyes. "So many curses guarding it…"

Regulus looked away tiredly as Kreacher nodded off. He was not cured, but he was mostly out of danger. Regulus had no idea where to begin with the things Kreacher told him. A secret cave, a basin of poison, all to guard an article of jewelry…Regulus rose to his feet and settled back onto his bed, pondering on what Voldemort had accomplished. Clearly the locket was important to him, if he had to go through such great lengths to conceal it…not only concealment, but punishment with certain death if anybody attempted to steal the locket…

In the corner of his eye he caught sight of the book lying forgotten on his bed.

His eyes widened.

_Two I had become, one less than the other..._

**xxx**

Hermione lowered her wand and knelt by Regulus, looking worriedly between him and Kreacher.

"What do you mean Voldemort's done something terrible?" said Hermione. "What's happened to him?"

"Kreacher is well," the old House-Elf croaked to Regulus, and stood tall. "Master is too kind."

"It's a very long story, but it is urgent," said Regulus quickly. "I know you can do medi-spells proficiently, can you examine him?"

"I—of course," Hermione was taken aback, but raised her wand nonetheless. Kreacher eyed her suspiciously as she wordlessly flicked her wand every few seconds. "Internally I see nothing immediately wrong," said Hermione worriedly, "but he's shaken very badly. He needs a rest. I'm sorry, I can't help with more than that. Wouldn't it be better if you had a healer see him?"

Regulus shook his head. "I don't want anyone else knowing about this."

"And what exactly is 'this'?" Sirius's voice was heard behind them, spoken very quietly. It was only then that Hermione realized that Sirius had been very still the entire time, and had not spoken a word until now. His grey eyes were trained on Kreacher, of whom was staring back up at him contemptuously. He looked as if he were holding his breath for several minutes, his face pinched and turning pink.

"Good to see you again, Kreacher," he said loftily.

Kreacher exploded.

"Filthy blood traitor!"

"Hey," Regulus said sharply, and Kreacher stiffened. "None of that. Sirius can be trusted. And he's not a blood traitor, nor should you put stock in those words."

Kreacher looked at Regulus in shock. "Forgive me, Master Regulus. I have displeased you." His huge eyes darted around Sirius's room, until he spotted the candlestick on his desk. Hermione, sensing what Kreacher was about to do, snatched up the candlestick and held it away from him.

"It's okay," Regulus assured with practiced ease, "just don't do it again." He glanced up at Sirius angrily. "Don't provoke him like that."

Sirius looked away agitatedly, as if being in the very room was painful. Hermione suspected it had more to do with Kreacher than it did with Regulus.

"Come, sit on the bed, the both of you. And tell us exactly why you had to Apparate here right now and endanger yourself," Hermione crossed her arms.

Sirius turned back to Regulus interestedly.

Regulus swallowed. "The dark lord used Kreacher. He came to our home a few nights ago, asking to borrow him. I believe—that is, from what Kreacher has described to me—he has made a…a h-horcrux."

He waited. Sirius and Hermione exchanged glances, and Hermione replied kindly, "Yes, we knew that. What else?"

Regulus gaped. " _What else_? Blimey—what else could be more important?"

"Maybe if you hadn't been a git, we might've told you sooner," said Sirius idly. Regulus looked at him sourly.

"That has nothing to do with it," Hermione said sternly, glaring at Sirius. "Regulus, I knew from the beginning this was Voldemort's plan. Since…well, the day I walked through Hogwarts' doors, I knew I had to stop him."

"You knew?" he said incredulously. "Since last year?"

"Didn't you wonder," said Sirius carefully, "what plan she had to defeat Voldemort and have you and Snape as spies?"

"I—I did…but…" Regulus trailed. "How long have you known?"

"Since the last Hogsmeade trip."

Heat crept up Regulus's neck as he looked away. Hermione looked between the two brothers anxiously.

"The important thing is that you came to us right away," Hermione said firmly. "You did the right thing."

"So this was always part of the plan?" Regulus looked between Sirius and Hermione. "You knew Voldemort was splitting his soul into pieces?"

"Yes. I…did my own investigating, and ever since my parents were killed I've been hunting them down and destroying them. It's the only way Voldemort can truly be killed. The more we destroy, the more vulnerable he becomes."

"And…and how many of them have you found?"

"Three so far," said Hermione with a half-smile. "It was very difficult, but it's not impossible."

Regulus digested this information silently.

"You said you knew Voldemort's made another horcrux," said Sirius. "How did you figure it out? What happened?"

"I'm not sure I would've figured it out that easily if it weren't for our library," Regulus admitted.

Sirius pulled a face. "You still read that dragon dung?"

"I was bored," Regulus rolled his eyes. "And ill. There was nothing else to do, and this particular book didn't give me blisters when I tried opening it."

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Still got the scar, then? On your left b—"

"Yes, yes," Regulus said quickly, going red. "It was  _Malum Nocte_ , behind the glass bookcase. There are forty poems detailing the adventures ancient wizards and witches who first began using the dark arts, and the consequences behind them."

"Do you have it with you?" asked Hermione, eagerness lighting her eyes.

He reached under his robe and pulled out an old, black book, handing it to Hermione. "Good Merlin," Hermione breathed, flipping carefully through the pages. "This is…ancient! Far older than any of the books in the Restricted Section back at Hogwarts."

"It's an original," said Regulus with a shrug.

"Most of the books in Black Manor are," said Sirius, as if he'd said it several times before.

Hermione closed the book, setting it aside for later. "Go on," she said gently.

"About a week ago, Voldemort came to our house." Regulus paused, gathering his breath. "He—he was pleased with me. With my...actions…and…he felt I was trustworthy. He asked for a House-Elf. He never explained why. But I know now he went on a mission to test the security of his horcrux….I offered Kreacher, and told him to return to me when his task with Voldemort was complete.

"Voldemort took Kreacher to a remote location inside a cave, placed with several enchantments and curses. Inside there was a lake, and at the center was a basin filled with a potion. Voldemort forced Kreacher to drink a terrible potion until the basin was empty, leaving a necklace at the bottom. He—he laughed, refilled the basin, and left Kreacher there. Kreacher returned, of course, half-dead into my bedroom—Voldemort seemed to have forgotten the binding magic of the House-Elves, markedly different and more powerful than any wizard's. Voldemort could not Apparate out of that cave, but Kreacher could. And now here we are."

Hermione was frowning deeply, her eyebrows pinched together in concentration. An enchanted cave, a basin filled with a toxic potion…he was definitely guarding a horcrux. Voldemort would never take that many precautions otherwise, especially to protect an otherwise harmless object.

"The necklace," Hermione said urgently. "Was it a locket?"

"Yeah, it was."

Hermione jumped from the bed and exhaled shakily, running her hands through her hair. The fourth horcrux. So quickly. Hermione paced in circles around Sirius's room, zoning out the others and trying to formulate a plan. They'd need to know where the cave was, and Apparate nearby…judging from what Regulus just revealed, there was an anti-Apparation charm around the cave, so she would need to make sure she knew where she was Apparating…the last thing they needed was to land in the middle of the ocean. Would she go alone? Would she—

She felt a pair of hands halt her pacing and close around her shoulders. Sirius was looking down at her worriedly.

"Hermione. It's okay."

"This is the fourth horcrux, Sirius," said Hermione anxiously. "We have to destroy it before term resumes. We have to—"

"We will," Sirius said firmly. "Which is why we have to calm down and  _think this through_."

Regulus watched them apprehensively. Hermione nodded stiffly. "Yes. I know." Sirius dropped his hands from her shoulders and Hermione returned to sit on the bed. "This is very serious," Hermione said to Regulus. "And we have to be very careful how we approach this."

"You're going to destroy it, aren't you?" Hermione nodded. Regulus stared at her in dismay. "I don't think you understood what I just told you, Hermione. Kreacher nearly  _died_ , Voldemort planted this elaborate trap himself—do you honestly believe you can steal that horcrux and destroy it?"

Hermione gazed at Regulus steadily. "I have to believe that I will succeed."

Regulus scoffed, looking away. "It's foolishness."

"Do you see anybody else lining up to destroy Voldemort's soul?" Hermione asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "This is my purpose. This is what I have to do. I don't expect you to understand. But if I die trying to destroy these horcruxes, I'll die relieved, knowing that I did everything in my power to succeed."

Regulus was shaking his head furiously, rejecting her words. "No, no—this is  _Voldemort!_  Do you  _understand?_  Look what he's already done, what he's made me do! If he finds out what you're doing—if he gets even the smallest hint—"

"It's an inevitability," said Sirius. "There's already a war stirring, Reggie. You know it's happening. We have to defeat him before he becomes truly invincible."

Regulus stilled, gazing at Sirius with an unreadable expression. Hermione took that chance to quietly pick up the book and sift through the pages, bringing it closer to her eyes as the print was incredibly difficult to read. She only caught a few words here and there, but they were enough to cause a shudder down her spine and promptly close the book.

Kreacher was twitching every few minutes, his knees drawn up to his chest, making himself as small as possible. Hermione bit her lip and slipped off Sirius's bed again, this time leaving the room. Regulus and Sirius stared after her in shock.

She returned two minutes later with two vials in one hand and a two little paper cups in the other. Stopping before Regulus, Hermione held them out. "There's an extra strength calming draught and a sleeping draft in these. Kreacher needs rest and time to recuperate. I would suggest he keep away from a stressful environment as well, but I have a feeling his absence will be noticed."

"It will be," said Regulus, taking the vials and the cups.

"How long can you stay?"

"Not very long. We should actually go back now."

"Then go," said Hermione firmly. "Administer the potions I gave you and follow the instructions on the label. We have to meet again, though. Can you come back tomorrow?"

Regulus nodded slowly. "Yes, I should be."

"Good. I need to know exactly where this cave is, and plan how we're going to execute this without losing our heads. Then we'll decide when to go."

Regulus nodded quickly, stuffing the items into his robes. He looked back at Hermione uncertainly. "You won't do anything before that…right?"

She could see the express concern reflecting in his gaze, still shaken by Kreacher's trauma and the discovery of Hermione's horcrux hunt, and it made Hermione's eyes soften. "No, we won't. Thank you for telling us, Regulus. Thank you for trusting us."

Regulus shifted uncomfortably, nodding once. He glanced at Sirius uneasily.

"Sirius…I'm…"

"Yeah, yeah." He reached over and roughly mussed up Regulus's hair. Regulus scowled and jerked away from Sirius's hand.

"Prat," he muttered, and Sirius smiled. Regulus stood and Kreacher followed him, taking Regulus's hand. "Tomorrow at ten o'clock p.m. in this room." Without warning, the two disappeared.

Sirius whistled low, glancing at Hermione. "Bloody hell."

"Bloody hell," Hermione echoed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Sirius eyebrows rose. She hunched over, picking at Sirius's blanket.

"What is it?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at Sirius. "I'm worried."

"I am too," said Sirius reasonably. "This is some scary shit. But we'll just have to get through it like everything else, right?"

Hermione bit her lip, her fingers twisting the blanket fretfully. "No, it's more than that. It's what Dumbledore told me before I travelled to this time."

"What did he say?"

She swallowed. "He—he tried to tell me everything important before I left. He told me who died, what happened to everyone. He told me what the horcruxes were and a very vague hint of where they would be. I knew one would be in the castle. I knew Lucius Malfoy would be in possession of one at some point. I knew one would be personal to his family. I even know the cup will be with someone who Voldemort trusts. But Dumbledore didn't tell me anything about the locket."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

Hermione shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "I have no idea. He said that one would be difficult. I tried asking more about it, but he dismissed it entirely. I think…I think it might have been personal to him, Sirius. I think he might have died because of it."

"How could that be? You said Dumbledore died because he broke the laws of nature by travelling back to the present, where two Dumbledores were existing at the same time."

"And that's true. But—he wouldn't tell me, Sirius. He wouldn't explain where he'd gone with Harry that night, he was so distant…something was going to happen that night. I just know it. Why else would he desperately try to hand off that Time-Turner to me? Why else am I here?"

"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" Sirius noted quietly.

"It was the only thing that didn't make sense. I know it is in Dumbledore's nature to be elusive, to not let on everything, but this was different."

"You think this horcrux in the cave will be more dangerous than the rest?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I think we have to be very careful."

Hermione departed from Sirius's room and spent the remainder of the day restless and fidgeting. She went through her entire purse filled with items from her time, organizing her books three times. She flipped through some of the darker books she'd been slowly collecting, trying to find anything that could aid her in their newest quest, but it was for naught. There was nothing Hermione could do to calm herself, and no amount of reading material was going to help her this time. The night was spent in fitful slumber, staring out the window wondering if she'd spot an owl from Regulus or her friends.

Sirius had helped a lot in calming her down her anxiety, but the feeling slowly crept back and was now churning inside her like black hole of fear, and Hermione curled into herself on the bed. A bright image of Lily's vibrant smile and red hair came to mind, she longed to talk to her almost desperately. If there was a time Hermione wished Lily knew about her secret, it was definitely right now. Lily was the one constant in Hermione's life; her unwavering kindness and loyalty, as well as her uncanny ability to make Hermione feel safe and loved as she dared anyone to hurt Hermione, was something Hermione cherished deeply. She wondered what gods she had unknowingly pleased to grant her a friend like that.

But Lily was not here, and Lily did not know, and Hermione was stuck in an endless loop of fear and longing. Longing to be rid of Voldemort, the parasite of her existence. Longing to wake up without this burden looming above her. Longing to no longer be afraid.

Exhausted from these racing thoughts, Hermione turned over and finally fell asleep.

**xxx**

At nine-thirty p.m. the next evening, Sirius and Hermione retired to their rooms. James had been insistent for them to join him to Peter's, but Hermione feigned fatigue and Sirius promised to visit later on. Once James disappeared from the fireplace, the lingering ashes of Floo powder swirling by the mantle, Hermione grabbed a notebook and pen and quietly padded over to Sirius's room.

"He should be here in a few minutes," said Sirius, letting Hermione in. He closed the door softly and Hermione spelled a Silencing charm about the room. Sirius smirked.

"What?"

"Just hope the Potters don't take all this the wrong way."

Hermione's look of confusion turned into a grimace. "You're horrible."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Sirius raised his hands in defense, unable to suppress a grin. "Fact is, you may be James's sister but you're certainly not mine. If they catch us in here with a Silencing charm up…"

"Well it's safer if they believe we're snogging than going out hunting pieces of Voldemort's soul," said Hermione tartly, and Sirius snorted loudly.

"Snogging! Now  _that's_  something we haven't done in a while," said Sirius blandly.

Hermione flushed, glaring sharply. "With good reason."

Sirius nodded easily. "Yeah. Last year was…pretty shit."

Hermione looked away, suddenly aware of how much had changed since their last—and only—kiss. They had been two completely different people then, and Hermione had still been so naïve…but as she gazed at Sirius again, watching him clean up his room last-minute, she couldn't help but think that perhaps things were changing again…

A loud  _crack_  jolted Hermione from her thoughts, and she saw Regulus and Kreacher once more. Kreacher was looking much better than the last time she saw him. Regulus had done well in his care.

"Right on time," said Sirius, smiling.

Regulus nodded. "We must be quick, though. Mother was persistent about having tea with her and I fear she will try to persuade me again."

"Right," said Hermione, settling down on the bed and opening her notebook. "Let's get straight to it, then. I've already compiled a list of things we need to know about the area itself, and then some other details. Is Kreacher willing to help us?"

Regulus turned to Kreacher, and the little elf stared up at them with giant, orb-like eyes. "Always, for Master Regulus."

Quietly, Sirius spoke to Hermione, "You know he has to anyway, Hermione."

"He should at least feel he has a choice," she whispered back, glaring. Sirius lowered his gaze.

"What do you have first?" Regulus asked, peering at her notebook.

She held it out for him to read. "First, I need a full, detailed description of where this cave was. I need to know what exactly Voldemort had done to get inside, what the interior of the cave looked like, and how vast it was."

Slowly, Kreacher spoke. He detailed what he could remember—much of his memory of the place was fading, perhaps a side effect of the potion—and after a half hour Hermione figured out where the cave could be in England. The cave entrance had been open and gaping when Voldemort passed them through, but Kreacher could recall him muttering a long spell at the opening just before retreating inside.

When it came to what the inside of the cave looked like, Kreacher could not remember.

"Large," Kreacher croaked fearfully. "A lake. That is all Kreacher knows."

"There was a basin, though, that's what you told us before," Hermione said patiently. "Do you remember the basin?"

"Basin…"

Hermione was starting to panic. "You really don't remember…"

"Do you remember drinking the potion?" Sirius asked.

Suddenly Kreacher went pale and a spasm tore through his little frame. He moaned and covered his bat-like ears with his hands. "NO!"

Regulus reached over to calm him, murmuring quietly. Kreacher's hands slid down from his ears, his eyes wet with tears.

"A basin in the center. Drink and drink, and he laughed and laughed."

Sirius and Hermione exchanged worried glances. Kreacher would not be utter another word, too terrified and confused.

"He's only remembering bits and pieces of the cave," said Regulus quietly, concern in his voice. "It is unlike him to forget things. This must be because of the potion he was forced to drink."

"Its effects are much deeper and lasting than I imagined," Hermione shook her head sorrowfully. "This is going to be very hard…"

"We know enough to get by, though," Sirius concluded. "You figured out where it's located, right?"

"Yes, I'm fairly certain it's a beach by the shore, somewhere in West England. He gave me enough description to be able to Apparate in and out of there easily."

"Then it's just the cave itself," Sirius said, his jaw tense. He looked to Regulus. "You should head on back, Reggie. We'll let you know if we make it back safely."

Regulus looked at them incredulously. "Oh no you don't! You think you two will go at this by yourselves? I'm coming with you!"

"You are most certainly  _not_ ," said Sirius fiercely, his eyes flashing with anger. "It's out of the question."

"Why not? You wouldn't have known about this if I hadn't told you! You think I can let the two of you go about this alone? Not a chance," Regulus growled.

"You're bloody fifteen, Regulus! You can't go on a dangerous mission like this!" Sirius roared.

"Hermione was fifteen when she destroyed her first horcrux, wasn't she?" Regulus accused, glaring at Hermione. Her eyes widened, and Sirius waved him off irritatedly.

"That's different," he retorted.

"It's not," said Regulus heatedly. "You're all talk, then, aren't you? All this about the war starting, about dying to keep the people you love safe—but only if it's what you're comfortable with, right? Starting that defense club, teaching us, is that a farce too?"

"I don't want you to get hurt," said Sirius, his eyes pained. "It was hard enough watching you go down your path for four years. I won't stand by again and let you come close to death."

"I've been close to death since the moment the Dark Mark was burned into my skin," Regulus said quietly.

"And what happens when Voldemort finds out  _you_  helped destroy his horcrux? Do you think you'll be breathing after that?"

"At least I'll die bravely."

Sirius looked away moodily.

"You haven't said a word, Hermione," said Regulus.

Hermione's eyes flickered up to Regulus, and Sirius turned to look at her, as if only just remembering she was there.

"You think he should come with us?" said Sirius, perplexed.

"I…don't know." Hermione looked at Sirius. "He has a point, Sirius. Where is the line drawn now? What age is appropriate to fight against evil? Harry…he was fighting since the age of eleven. We can't protect everyone from the uglier side of reality, no matter how much we want to."

Regulus was staring at Hermione as if she were made of pure starlight, half-hopeful and half-surprised. Sirius had gone stiff, and Hermione was unable to meet his gaze.

Finally, Sirius tore his eyes away and pinned Regulus with a dark glare. "I don't like this. I want you to know that." Regulus nodded quickly. "But you did tell us about the horcrux. You're already a bloody Death Eater. You've earned this, I guess."

Regulus nodded curtly. "I am going to help you," he said honestly, looking between Hermione and Sirius confidently. "If it means I am one step closer to being rid of Lord Voldemort once and for all, that my family will be safe—I will do anything."

**xxx**

She knew Sirius was not happy with her after Regulus left. He'd been terse with her for the week that followed, only coming out from his meal during meals or to go to James's room. Hermione had expected this, but she would not change what she had said. Regulus had every right to come, as much as she hated the thought. He had, after all, risked his life by joining the Death Eaters and willingly pass information with Snape. And above that, he had gained Voldemort's trust like no other, ultimately leading Hermione to their next horcrux. He had proven himself over and over to be capable of advanced magic and making difficult decisions, no matter how much he despised them.

She knew Sirius knew this as well, but it was harder for him to come to terms with this truth. Hermione knew he was not genuinely angry with her, but instead angry that Regulus was correct, and there was nothing Sirius could do to protect him.

They had decided to wait a week before journeying to the cave. In any case, they did not want to destroy the horcrux so quickly after Voldemort hid it, lest he come back to check up on it. Hermione didn't think that would be the case, though; Voldemort was notoriously full of himself, and would never dream that anybody would actually succeed in an elaborate trap built by himself.

On the morning they were meant to go, Sirius knocked on her door.

"Hey," he said, a little sheepish.

"Hi. Come on in," she opened the door wider.

He came in and stood stiffly as Hermione closed the door. She cracked a smile. "You can relax. Nothing in here will kill you without my consent."

"Ha ha," Sirius said dryly, his body relaxing. "So are you, er…ready?"

"I think so. I have several vials of potions with me, a medical kit, some tools…I don't think we'll need them, but it's good to have. Are you ready?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. Not much to prepare. Got my wand, got my clothes on." He paused. "We're telling James."

Her heart pounded. "Tell him what?"

"That we're going to do something dangerous. Not about the horcruxes, of course, but…you know."

The panic that had suddenly burst through her instantly simmered. Hermione exhaled slowly. "Yes. Of course. He should know what we're doing, just in case."

Sirius nodded. "Have you written to Snape, by the way?"

"I've tried contacting him but I haven't had a reply back. I hope he's alright," Hermione said worriedly.

"Shocking as it may sound, but I hope he's alright too. I would've preferred him accompanying us today than my brother."

"I know," Hermione said softly.

Sirius looked at her, a strange look in his eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as he came and he cleared his throat. "We're meeting at the bakery, right?"

"Noon sharp." Hermione took a deep breath, her insides fluttering anxiously. "This is it."

He must have noticed her discomfort, for he stepped closer and patted her arm gently. "Right now, you're the only person in the entire world to have destroyed three horcruxes of the same person. The fourth one doesn't stand a chance."

Hermione smiled tremulously, and Sirius left her room. Something was twisting and coiling in the pit of her stomach, and no amount of words of reassurance would bring her peace. Something…something felt  _strange_ , and it did not make sense to her, and it left her feeling shaky and cold.

As the hours drew closer to noon, Hermione triple checked her things to make sure she was ready, and started to pace about in her room. At eleven o'clock, Hermione silently went down the stairs and into the parlor, relieved to find it completely empty.

Her hand shook as she picked up the receiver and dialed Lily's number. She waited, her heart beating faster when she heard the line connect.

"Evans residence."

"Lily?" Hermione said shakily.

"Hermione!" Lily said happily, and Hermione could hear the smile in her voice. "How are you?"

"Fine," she said, her fingers twisting the cord. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Well Petunia hasn't been giving me the stink eye as much lately, which is always an improvement," Lily said airily. "Are you still coming to visit before Christmas?"

"I wouldn't dream of missing it," Hermione smiled. It faded, and Hermione gripped the phone tightly. "Lily?"

"Yes?"

"I…you're my best friend. You know that, right?"

"'Course I do, silly. What's this about?"

"Nothing. Nothing, it's nothing. I can't wait to see you. I…have so much to tell you, Lily." Her eyes burned, and she swallowed thickly. "I can't wait to tell you everything."

"Hang on, Petunia's just burst in my room— _Alright!—_ Merlin, she thinks she's so mature for having a boyfriend. Complete tosser if you ask me, what kind of name is  _Vernon_?"

"I wouldn't know," Hermione laughed lightly.

"I'll see you soon, okay Granger? I'm anxious to hear these stories you're itching to tell me. I'm— _I'm almost done!—_ sorry, have to go. Bye, Hermione."

"Bye," said Hermione softly, hearing the call disconnect. Numbly she set the phone back down, her heart feeling heavier than ever before, and trudged back upstairs.

Sirius was waiting by her room, and was surprised to see her coming up the steps. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah. Let's tell James."

James had been entirely unhappy and unconvinced when they told them they were leaving to 'find something', but promised he would not say a word to Charlus or Dorea. The pair left quickly, then, heading towards the small bakery down the street, and waited inside.

Regulus arrived ten minutes later. "I'm here," he panted, shivering. "Bloody hell it's cold."

"What did you tell mother?" Sirius inquired.

"That I'm visiting Scabior. She doesn't much approve of him but she's long given up on me about him."

"Let's go to the back alley," Hermione said in a hushed tone. "We'll leave from there."

Quickly they left the bakery, glancing about inconspicuously and making sure they were not being followed. Once they were hidden in the shadows of a back alley, Hermione held out her hands. "Regulus, you're used to traveling with Kreacher, but this will be different and much less comfortable. Make sure to keep holding onto my arm tightly. Okay?"

Regulus nodded stiffly, taking her arm and gripping it tightly. Sirius held onto her other arm, and nodded reassuringly.

"Okay. One, two, three!"

They Apparated onto a large rock, water crashing around them loudly and spraying them with the ocean mist. Regulus looked shocked, as if he couldn't quite catch his breath, but Sirius rubbed his back and asked if he was alright.

"Fine," said Regulus tersely. "Is this really it?"

Hermione pressed her lips thinly, squinting at a cliff not too far away. "This is it. It's exactly how Kreacher described it. See that cliff there with the jagged rock gathered at the bottom?" The cliff was tall and faceless, a shadow of black despite the cloudy daylight. Water was foaming around the cliff, with salty ocean spray licking at their feet. "We have to swim across."

Sirius dived first, coming up for air and swiftly swimming towards the cliff side. Hermione and Regulus jumped in after him, their teeth chattering against the freezing cold water that felt as if it were dragging them down, until they reached a fissure in the rock that extended narrowly for a few feet before abruptly ending.

Hermione's hands clamped onto cold, wet rock, pulling herself up onto the lip of the cave. She was shivering all over, her hands trembling as she took out her wand.

" _C-Calidus_ ," she chattered, and Sirius and Regulus sighed in relief as their clothes dried instantly. She pointed her wand to herself and repeated the spell, her clothes immediately warmed as if fresh from a dryer.

"Is this the right cave?" Regulus whispered, looking at the cave entrance apprehensively. Sirius lit his wand and held it high, gazing at the cave walls.

"It's known magic," Sirius murmured softly. "Dark magic."

"Sirius!" Hermione said shrilly. "You shouldn't be doing magic!"

"It won't matter here," Sirius glanced at her. "The Trace won't work. This place is too heavily shrouded with magic. Voldemort made sure of that."

"You can sense it?" Regulus asked Sirius faintly. Sirius nodded.

"Keep your wands out then. You too, Regulus," Hermione lit her wand and held it out, and Regulus followed suit. "And keep your guard up."

Despite the three lit wands, it was almost impossible to see where they were going. They felt at the walls, walking hesitantly forward and holding their wands out high. Finally they reached a silver archway that led into the deep cavern of the cave. But when they drew closer, the archway disappeared, revealing a wall blocking the path.

"Let me," Regulus ushered them to back away, and held out his wand. " _Bombar—"_

" _No!_ " Sirius shoved Regulus's wand aside, stricken. "Can't you tell? There's a curse upon this rock."

Hermione chewed her lower lip, staring at the wall. She remembered seeing something like this in the dark books. "I think…we have to offer payment."

"Payment?" Regulus repeated. "What kind would that be?"

"Blood payment."

They stared at her in shock.

"Let me," said Sirius.

"No," said Hermione sternly. "I won't have you hurting yourselves. I am of age; I will do it."

Without waiting for a reply, Hermione pointed her wand at her palm and sliced it, wincing at the warm trickle of blood that began to drip. She pressed her bleeding hand onto the rock and waited.

The silver archway returned once more, the rock wall disappearing as if it had never been there at all. Hermione pointed her wand at her hand again and closed up the wound; it was not perfectly sewn together, but it would do.

The cavern was boundless; a lake stretched on endlessly before them, and in the center a faint green light could be seen. They edged along the walls of the cave, careful not to step into the water. It was eerily still, not a single ripple through the black water. Hermione stared off at the green light, feeling suddenly ill.

"I can feel it," said Hermione mutedly. "It's here."

"That green light," Regulus noted, squinting his eyes. "I think…I think that's the center. The basin that Kreacher described must be there. We have to go across."

There had to be a way…Hermione stared distantly, her eyes traveling over the walls. "Sirius. Look at these walls and tell me the strongest magical signature you find."

Sirius stepped forward and glanced about slowly. Regulus was watching him, intrigued, for he had never known Sirius to have this ability and to see it was something that both impressed and frightened him, as he had never considered just how strong of a wizard Sirius was.

"There," Sirius breathed, his hand reaching forward towards one end of the wall in midair. As if grasping something, Sirius pulled hard, and a glittering chain suddenly appeared in his grasp. Hermione and Regulus helped him pull it, until a silver boat came rushing from under the water. It hardly made a sound as the water slid back into the lake, rippling briefly before going deathly still once more.

"It's very small," Sirius noticed. "Should we go in turns?"

Hermione worried her lower lip. "No…I don't feel safe having one of us there and another here. We can squeeze in."

"What if it can't hold our weight?" Regulus said anxiously.

"I have a feeling that won't be a problem," said Hermione, staring at the boat. "Voldemort wouldn't let something so mundane and  _muggle_  as weight on a boat be the obstacle. No, the real challenge will be the basin."

Sirius and Regulus squeezed onto the boat uncomfortably, and Hermione wobbled a bit as she tried finding her footing. The boat truly was fit for only one person, two with some difficulty, but three was unheard of. Voldemort must not have fathomed the possibility of three students embarking on stealing his horcrux, let alone two underage wizards. Hermione wobbled again, and Sirius caught her arm.

"Just sit here," said Sirius stiffly, not meeting her eyes. Knowing she had little other choice, Hermione sat uncomfortably on Sirius's legs.

The boat began to move on its own. The lake did not so much as shudder as the boat traveled across, and she could hear the faint tinkling of the chain against the boat. The faint green light was growing brighter and brighter, until they reached a small island at the center of the lake, and indeed—a basin sat in the middle.

They quickly jumped off the boat and approached the basin. A little cup was standing atop the rim, and swirling inside was a viscous, silvery purple liquid.

At the very bottom of the basin sat an amber, shimmering locket.

Sirius wasted no time in dipping his hand inside and reaching forward. To his dismay, he could not touch it—it was as if an invisible barrier was between them, and Sirius jerked his hand out.

"What if we…?" Regulus took the goblet and filled it with the potion, then dumped it on the ground. The basin immediately refilled.

They stood silently for a bit.

"There's no way around it," she said softly. "It must be drunk." Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, steadying herself. It was time.

But when she reached forward for the goblet, Sirius stayed her hand.

"I will drink it," said Sirius.

"No!" Hermione said at once. "No, I can't let you—"

"You know what this potion will do to whoever drinks it," Sirius said forcefully. "If you drink this, there's no guarantee you'll be able to perform magic properly. We need you to Apparate us back and to destroy the horcrux. You cannot be compromised."

"I can drink it as well," Regulus suggested quietly.

"No. If Voldemort catches a single droplet on you or in you, he'll kill you immediately. I will drink it…I was always going to drink it."

Hermione stared up at him in distress, waves of fury and agony washing over her. She had not planned for this, this was not how it was supposed to go, why was Sirius doing this, why couldn't she stop this—

"If we're to get this locket, I have to drink all of it," Sirius interrupted her thoughts. "And knowing what it did to Kreacher…you will force it down me, if you must. Okay?"

Unwillingly, Hermione and Regulus agreed. Sirius took the goblet and dipped it in the liquid. His eyes fixed on Hermione's as he brought the goblet to his lips and tilted it forward.

For a moment, they were all still. Sirius lowered the goblet, his eyes downcast, and a shadow passed over his face. He reached over and filled it again, drinking it quickly this time. Hermione's eyes widened when she saw Sirius visibly stiffen.

"Again," he said hoarsely. He held out the goblet to Hermione with trembling fingers, and she took it quickly and refilled it. Sirius grasped it and unsteadily brought it to his lips, draining it.

He began to shake uncontrollably.

"Sirius?" Regulus said anxiously.

"Again," Sirius rasped, the cup falling from his hand.

Hermione bent down to grab it and refilled the goblet. He stared at it for a long moment before drinking.

Sirius moaned loudly, until it became a bone-chilling scream.

"Sirius!" Regulus shouted, coming to his brother's side and wrapping his arms around Sirius, who was now trembling violently. "Help him!"

Hermione refilled the goblet and brought it to his lips. "This—this will help, Sirius, you have to drink all of it—"

He clamped his hand gratefully around hers and brought the cup to his mouth, drinking it quickly. He groaned loudly, tremors shaking his frame as his knees sank to the ground and Regulus followed with him.

"Please….stop…"

"After this," Hermione said, her voice cracking as she held the goblet to his mouth, "after this and it'll be over…"

Sirius drained it again, and began to cry in earnest.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry—don't make me—I'm sorry, don't make me!"

Regulus struggled against Sirius, trying to hold him down and keep him calm. Hating herself, Hermione filled another gobletful of potion and brought it towards Sirius.

"This will help, Sirius, this will help—it's in your head, remember? It's in your head, we're almost done, just drink this…"

Obediently Sirius drank, and his body spasmed before breaking free of Regulus's grasp and making a desperate lunge for the water. Regulus pinned him down, and Sirius started pounding at the ground.

"Please don't tell—I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Turn him over!" Hermione shrieked, and Regulus quickly pulled Sirius away from the ground; a lump was forming in her throat as she watched him writhe about as if burning alive, and Regulus fighting back tears as he tried to keep Sirius from harming himself; she refilled the goblet and noted the basin was more than halfway finished, and she crouched down by Sirius and stroked his hair, "Just one more, one more okay? I'm right here, Regulus is here, just drink one more."

He lurched again after emptying the goblet, shivering and crying and moaning, his voice childlike as he begged for Hermione to stop.

"Please…please…"

"We're almost done," Hermione said in a watery voice, "Here, drink…"

"No…"

"Drink this, Sirius, it'll help…"

Tears ran freely from her eyes as Sirius began to scream again, the sound shattering her heart and echoing against the walls; Regulus was whispering to Sirius, sniffling, and Hermione refilled the hated goblet once more. They were almost done, just two more would do it—

Sirius drank, and no sooner had he finished than he yelled, "KILL ME!"

"This—this one will," gasped Hermione. "Just drink this….It'll be over…all over!"

Sirius gulped it down, every last drop, and Hermione pulled the goblet away. He closed his eyes weakly and went limp.

"No!" Regulus yelled, hoisting Sirius and shaking him. "No, no, no, wake up!" Hermione rushed forward and pulled Sirius down onto the ground, checking his breathing. Before she could go any further, Sirius opened his eyes.

"Water," croaked Sirius. "Please."

"Water—yes—water—" Hermione jumped to her feet and went back to the basin where the goblet lay forgotten. She grabbed it quickly, pausing when she caught sight of the horcrux locket.

Hermione seized the locket and stuffed it in her pocket. Pointing her wand at the goblet, she muttered, " _Aguamenti!_ " Instantly it filled with clear liquid.

Hermione crouched down and held the goblet to Sirius's mouth, but to her dismay the goblet was empty.

"What? I just—hold on— _Aguamenti!_ " Hermione watched in horror as the liquid filled the goblet, only to vanish a second later.

"No, no… _Aguamenti—Aguamenti—_ why won't this work!" Hermione cried. Sirius was now panting hoarsely, his eyes closing.

"Hermione, do something!" Regulus yelled.

"I can't! It's jinxed, it won't work—AGUAMENTI!"

In a moment of desperation, Hermione crawled to the edge of the rock and dipped the goblet into the water, only to scream when a pale, slimy hand clamped onto her arm.

" _Reducto!_ "

The hand release her arm and fell back into the lake, but a dozen more hands slowly emerged and started to crawl towards the island.

"Inferi!" Regulus cried.

"Get back! Get back! Protect Sirius!" Hermione shouted to Regulus, and he dragged Sirius's lifeless body towards the basin and far away from the lake edges. Hermione raised her wand as the once-still lake was now swarming with rising dead bodies, all clambering towards the island where she stood. Only one spell came to mind, one she knew would be the only lasting defense.

With a vicious stroke of her wand, red and orange flames burst from the tip and gave a deafening roar. The walls shook as fire pummeled the air around her, whipping in a large circle as the Inferi scrambled away, some burning instantly while others retreated into the water. So intent was she on the controlling the fire that she had not noticed the small, slippery body that had escaped the wrath of fiendfyre, clinging to the edge of the island and slowly inching towards Hermione's feet. Regulus caught sight of a flash of pale skin, and screamed, "LOOK OUT!"

As the words fell from his lips the Inferi sprang from the water and toppled over Hermione, wrapping its arms and legs around her body like a vice.

Hermione faltered, choking against the rotting flesh that gripped her mercilessly—she heard Regulus shout and saw his leg kick at the Inferi's head, sending it sprawling next to her—her wand was lying next to her and she reached for it desperately, but the Inferi was quicker. It flopped forward and snatched the wand before she could wrap her fingers around it, and Hermione watched in horror as it squeezed and squeezed its fist until her wand snapped in half.

Regulus kicked the Inferi again and it fell into the water, burning in the circling inferno that was now in the form of a chimaera. She watched as Regulus stared briefly at the fiendfyre, a soft look in his eyes, and raised his wand high in the air. With a gentle swipe of his wand, the fire went out.

The lake was still again. Hermione looked at her broken wand. Nothing could bring it back...she picked up the two pieces and dropped them into her purse.

Hermione crawled towards Sirius, checking if he was still alive. When a pulse jumped faintly at her fingertips, Hermione almost sobbed in relief.

"He's okay…he's alright…Regulus…" she looked at him in wonder. "H-How did you put the fire out?"

Regulus shook his head, holding Sirius as if his life depended on it. Hermione staggered to her feet and checked the boat.

"The boat's okay," she gasped, turning back to Regulus. "Let's—let's get Sirius inside—grab his arms…"

The hauled Sirius into the boat and climbed after him. Sirius was half on Regulus's lap, and Hermione squeezed inside trying to take up the least amount of room she could manage. The boat began to move on its own, gliding gently on the still black water.

When they reached the entrance to the cave again they pulled Sirius out and laid him onto the ground. Hermione sighed, feeling like she could think clearly again, and dug inside her purse until she fished out a potion phial. Unstoppering it, she dumped its contents and looked to Regulus.

"I need to borrow your wand."

He stared at her unsurely before holding out his wand. Hermione took it and immediately  _scourgify_ ed the inside. After cleaning it out, she muttered, " _Aguamenti_." It filled with water immediately, and this time it did not disappear.

Hermione pushed Sirius's hair from his face and tilted his head up. She pried his mouth open and poured the water down his throat, and was relieved when he swallowed it immediately. She repeated this three more times until Sirius was blinking again, staring silently at nothing.

"We'll swim together," Hermione told Regulus, his wand still in her hand. They grabbed Sirius on either side and trudged towards the exit, the sound of the ocean becoming louder and louder until it was right before them, crashing against the cliff side where they stood. Regulus turned to her.

"Destroy it first," he said. "Destroy it, Hermione. We're not letting that locket leave this cave until it's dead."

Hermione swallowed thickly. "Okay."

Letting Sirius go, Hermione limped away from the two brothers and took out the horcrux locket. She could feel it thrumming dimly underneath her fingers. She set it down onto the ground.

"Do it quickly. Please," said Regulus hoarsely. Hermione pointed her wand at the locket and cast the fire, hearing it scream and scream until it fell silent. Hermione barely noticed that it did not put up a fight; perhaps it had thought the trials in the cave would have weakened Hermione beyond spellwork. It was wrong.

She ended the curse and the fiendfyre vanished, leaving a charred necklace behind. At her touch, it turned to dust.

They swam to the rock in which they first arrived on, Hermione and Regulus supporting Sirius in the water, who was awake enough to kick his feet and try to swim with them. Once they reached the rock, Hermione wrapped her arm around Sirius and pulled Regulus close to her. Squeezing Regulus's wand and making sure Sirius was still awake, she Disapparated.

It was difficult walking from the bakery to Godric's Hollow, but Regulus made sure Sirius was supported more heavily on him. Hermione pushed the door to her home open and helped Regulus inside. Sirius was unconscious now, and she muttered under her breath and levitated Sirius up the stairs and back into his room. Regulus immediately sat beside him on the bed. Hermione performed several spells to check Sirius's health, and was relieved to find he was only asleep.

Numbly, Hermione's feet took her to James's room. She opened the door, not bothering to knock, and found him sitting on his bed reading. He glanced up at her and jumped up instantly.

"Are you alright? Oh my god, Hermione, you're bleeding! Where's Sirius?" asked James, stricken.

"In his room. Regulus is here. You should sit with them."

"Is Sirius alright?"

Hermione looked at him blankly. "He will be."

She turned around, not waiting for a reply, and went straight to her room. Her body took over, jerking off her shoes and shrugging out of her clothes, walking stiffly to the bathroom. She stared at her reflection and saw bruises all along her body where the Inferi had wrapped itself around her. A lump was lodged in her throat and Hermione stepped in the shower. As the water ran down her bare skin, warm and soothing, Hermione wept uncontrollably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Parts of this chapter used direct and semi-direct lines from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince; these lines belong to J.K. Rowling and were used to further the plot of this fanfiction only.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this one! Let me know what you thought! xx


	22. Catharsis

**Chapter 22**

_Catharsis_

Regulus's hands were trembling.

He did not know how long he sat on Sirius's bed, watching him inhale and exhale in slow, uneven breaths. He did not know that James Potter had walked in several times, at first trying to ask Regulus questions before silently watching over the two of them. He did not know that hours had passed, that Potter's parents were not home, that his mother was sending an owl to Scabior asking why Regulus was staying so late at his house, that Regulus had not eaten in fourteen hours.

He  _did_ know that the smell of salt from the sea still clung to his skin and clothes, and it was enough to tug him from his thoughts. That was how James Potter walked in on him, staring at his robes and his hands in disgust.

"Hermione's resting," said Potter shortly, his jaw tense. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what happened now?"

Regulus glanced down at Sirius again. He exhaled softly, and this time it did not sound so haggard, as if Sirius's lungs were dragging air in and out with difficulty. He looked almost…peaceful.

"Everything's…worked out," Regulus replied. "He just needs rest."

He missed the flash of annoyance across Potter's face.

"But why does he need rest?  _What happened to him?_ "

Regulus stared up at James Potter. "Why? Because he drank poison."

Potter stared back at him in shock, air rushing out of him all of a sudden as if he'd been hit by a freezing curse.

Regulus glanced out the window.  _Too long,_ Regulus realized with alarm. He stood quickly and smoothed his damp robes. "Are there House-Elves in this home?"

"What? I—yes. Why?"

Regulus took out his wand and spelled his clothes dry, and instantly he was warmed. Regulus looked Potter again and smiled thinly. "The ministry won't be sending a warning owl with so much magic in the house. I'll be leaving now."

"Leaving?" Potter repeated. "No, no, you can't—you can't say that Sirius was poisoned and then not explain! Do we need to take him to the hospital? I don't know what I'm doing here, what—"

"He's not poisoned, he  _drank_ poison. And he doesn't need a hospital. Don't take him there," Regulus's eyes flashed warningly. "He just needs rest. I don't have time to stay here any longer—Hermione will explain everything when she is able."

"She won't! She's holed up in her room, flinching at everything, kicking me out when I tried talking to her—" James shook his head. "I don't know what to do, mate."

"None of us do, Potter." He turned back at Sirius. "Look after him? I'll be back when I can."

As he strode down the street and went down a corner, he summoned Leela and held her little hand as she Apparated them back to his home. He barely looked at his mother when she approached him at the staircase.

"Why didn't you or your friend answer my owl? Your father's grown ill again." Her nose wrinkled when she looked his hair. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I'm tired, Mother," said Regulus tonelessly, "I'll see to Father tomorrow. Good night."

**xxx**

James stopped in front of the pale door, balancing a plate in one hand. Breathing in slowly, he knocked twice.

When no answer came, he tried again. "Hermione?"

James frowned, and reached for the doorknob. The door swung open gently, revealing a dimly lit room with curtains drawn; a dying candle flickered on Hermione's desk, and James caught the scent of vanilla wafting from the pool of wax.

He ducked his head inside tentatively, and found Hermione sleeping curled up on her chair. James set the plate on her desk and bent low, blowing out the candle. He moved to leave the room, but stopped when he heard Hermione mumble.

Her brows were knitted together, her lower lip quivering just slightly as if in pain. James crept closer, and became increasingly worried when Hermione's breath faltered.

"Hermione?" James whispered. Her head twitched, hands curled in tight fists. "Hey." James gently patted her shoulder. Hermione's breathing became shallow, her eyes shut tightly, and James looked around helplessly. Should he try and wake her up? Or would she resent him for disturbing her, nightmare or not?

He remembered the way she had recoiled from him when he checked in on her an hour after she arrived with Regulus and Sirius, and the look of abject fear and a letter opener held at his throat defensively burned in his memory. Never had she gazed at him that way before—not even when he had distanced himself from her out of caution last year, not even when he had said that her plans to bring down Voldemort were transcendentally idiotic. He couldn't remember  _anybody_  looking at him the way Hermione had.

Not even Snape.

James was pulling back his hand when Hermione's eyes snapped open, dark eyes piercing his own, and a great choking gasp left her throat. Her lips moved, whispering a word he could not quite catch, uttering it under her breath and her eyes filled with tears.

"Hermione?"

His voice seemed to jar her, and Hermione's mouth closed. She swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly before shutting her eyes. "Why…are you here?"

James stared at her. Why was he here?

_For answers. For Sirius._

James glanced behind him. "I brought you some food. Thought you'd be hungry, not eating last night and all."

Hermione's gaze shifted behind him. "You blew out my candle."

"…Yes. It was burning out."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Thanks for the food…I…think I'll sleep a bit more first."

He did not want to press her, or make her feel she had to tell him, but James was growing increasingly confused and impatient with Hermione's reticence.

"You can't sleep it off forever, Hermione," he said quietly. She stiffened, not meeting his eyes.

James left her room.

**xxx**

At the soft sound of water running, Hermione stood.

She cracked the door open and listened. She could hear the whir and patter of the shower going, and knew James would not leave his room for at least twenty minutes.

Hermione stepped out, closing the door softly behind her, and crossed the hall to Sirius's room. She paused, listening again. Her fingers shook as they grasped the knob and turned, squinting at the light coming from his window. She closed the door quickly and pressed her back against it.

Sirius's eyes were closed, breathing evenly. A glass of water stood untouched on his nightstand, sitting atop a stack of paper. To anyone, he could have been simply sleeping.

She pressed herself further against the door, a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to run, to throw the door open and shut herself away into her room, to draw the covers over her head and close her eyes and push past the faces of agony conjured in her mind and the sound of Sirius screaming and the poison dripping from her fingers and startling green eyes staring at her accusingly—

Sirius inhaled deeply, and Hermione's thoughts halted. For a moment she feared he was waking up, that he would catch her standing paralyzed in terror against the door. But he simply exhaled, his chest falling, and continued to sleep.

_You're being ridiculous_. She forced herself to peel away from the door and walk over to the chair by Sirius's bed, sitting down silently. She did not want to look, she was not ready to say anything.

_Look. Look at what you did_.

Hermione bit her lip, and finally looked at Sirius's face.

It was not twisted in agony, his mouth not parted in silent screams—Hermione released a shuddering breath and wilted, resting her hands on the edge of Sirius's mattress and pressing her forehead against them. She shook her head a little and straightened, looking at Sirius again. His complexion was pale, but not nearly as bad as Kreacher had looked when he arrived with Regulus that first day. He wasn't shuddering or erratic, which was good—Hermione reached over to brush her fingertips against his forehead, and knew he was not feverish. He truly was, by all rights, recovering.

Hermione's fingers lingered on Sirius's skin. She brushed the hair from his forehead idly, her gaze softening; she couldn't remember the last time she had been this close to him—enough to see his long lashes sweeping darkly down his eyes, his fine bone structure contrasting sharply with long, dark hair. He was unequivocally and undeniably a Black, no matter how much he denied his heritage.

She let her fingers trail down his temple and onto his cheek, her lower lip trembling. "I'm  _sorry_ ," she said hoarsely.

Sirius's eyes shuttered open.

A ragged gasp left her throat and Hermione snatched her hand away. He stared up at her.

"Hermione?"

There was no mistaking it. "Sirius," Hermione croaked. "You're—you're—" He began to cough, and she grabbed the glass of water. "Here," she held the glass out to him. Instinctively he jerked away, his eyes widening in fear.

Hermione froze, her eyes rounded in horror. She leaned back against the chair, replacing the glass on the nightstand.

The look of contrition was clear on his face, but for Hermione was too late. Sirius reached for her but Hermione pushed the chair back, making him grasp at empty air. "Hermione…"

The door opened and James stood before them, his hair still dripping, and Hermione vaguely realized the sound of the shower had been off for quite some time. "You're awake!" James exclaimed, rushing forward and kneeling on the opposite side of the bed. "I heard noises so I came to check and he's  _awake_ —" Wordlessly, Hermione rose from the chair and walked to the door.

"Wait, where are you going?"

But Hermione was already gone.

**xxx**

"Can…can you hand me the water," Sirius said weakly.

"Yeah, 'course," James jumped to his feet and crossed over to the opposite side of the bed. "I can help you drink if you like—"

"No!" said Sirius sharply. James paused, taken aback. Sirius closed his eyes, his voice going soft. "I'd like to drink it myself. Please."

James nodded. Gently he held out the glass, his hands hovering next to Sirius's to catch the glass in case it slipped. "Slowly, mate," James warned softly when Sirius began taking great gulps. Suddenly he stopped. The glass shook in his hand and Sirius looked at James blankly, his mouth pressed in a tight line, looking decidedly green.

Hastily James grabbed the rubbish bin and shoved it next to the bed, just in time for Sirius to lean over and vomit. James sat next to him and rubbed his back when Sirius continued to dry heave. He moaned brokenly, his face hidden by a curtain of black hair, and James could feel tremors running down his back.

"Better?"

Sirius spat in the bin and rolled over, leaning exhaustedly against his pillows. "A bit, yeah." He looked down at himself and grimaced. "God I need to change out of these clothes. I look like shit." He sniffed. "Smell like shit too."

"That would be the bin, mate," said James wryly.

Sirius chuckled, but his mouth twisted in pain and he tightened his arms around his abdomen. James watched the movement apprehensively.

"Sirius…what happened to you? Your brother said you had—that you drank—poison."

Sirius frowned, and closed his eyes wearily. "Yeah," he said quietly. "That I did."

"Why?" James was aghast. "Why would you do that?"

"Had to," Sirius shrugged faintly, looking back at James and eerily calm. It would have convinced him had Sirius not looked so pale.

"But  _why_ , Sirius? What was so important that you would gamble your life like this?"

"You know why."

James glared. "If you're saying it has to do with You-Know-Who—"

"I'm not saying it, it's just the truth. It had to be done."

James looked at his friend sadly. "He's not worth it, Sirius."

Sirius sighed. "But you all are."

**xxx**

James left Sirius's room after he'd fallen asleep and despite knowing what would result, he knocked on Hermione's door to check on her. She did not reply, and this time James did not try to convince her otherwise.

He bolted to his room and grabbed a spare bit of parchment and a quill. Chewing on his lower lip, wrote down two words and stuffed the parchment in a small envelope and wrote  _'Regulus'_ on the front, leaving out his own name and sending the owl without second thought.

He wondered if they checked Regulus's mail like they had always checked Sirius's. He remembered after their first year, every letter he tried to send to Sirius was always brought back with a return owl, until James, Peter, and Remus had decided to come up with inventive ways to write to Sirius, which involved a heavy amount of deceptive charms on the letters with equal amounts of stealing Sirius away from his room during the summer holidays.

James headed to the kitchens and tried preparing Sirius a small lunch, but the House-Elves easily batted him away and put together a meal to help Sirius regain some of his energy.  _The energy lost to bloody poison_ , James thought bitterly as he balanced the plate in one hand and opened Sirius's door with the other.  _A poison—a_ day _—that nobody seems willing to tell me about._

His thoughts halted when he saw Sirius struggling to yank out clothes from his closet. A small pile was by his feet, and James understood.

"Need some help, mate?" James set the plate on Sirius's bed and walked over. Sirius was clinging heavily onto the door of his wardrobe, sweat breaking out on his forehead that was far too pale.

"Yeah, just this bloody jumper—"

James tugged on the fabric that Sirius was trying to pry out, and it sprang free instantly. Sirius smiled gratefully and dropped the jumper with the rest of his clothes on the floor.

"Thought I'd take a shower, y'know, clean myself up. I'm a bloody mess." Sirius said it with a little smile, but James could see the edge behind it. Sirius stared at the pile for a moment, still holding onto the wardrobe door. James quickly got the impression that were Sirius to step away right now, he would likely fall to the floor.

"A bit more on the messy than the bloody, to be honest," said James as he reached down and swept the clothes into his arms.

Sirius bristled. "I got it—"

"It's nothing," said James, peering through Sirius's eyes so he could see what James meant. Sirius said nothing. "Mine or the one down the hall?"

"Yours."

James went into his own bedroom and put Sirius's clothes in the bathroom, then hung a fresh towel by the tub. James reentered Sirius's room and found him still standing by the wardrobe. He looked at Sirius carefully, then held out his arm. "C'mon, mate," he said softly.

Sirius gazed at him, his eyes unreadable, before slowly wrapping an arm around James's shoulders. Sirius leaned heavily against James once he was no longer supported by the wardrobe door, and James held Sirius tightly against himself as they slowly trudged out the bedroom. They had to stop several times for Sirius to catch his breath, but within minutes they had reached James's bathroom.

Sirius sat down on the toilet and panted, his body shaking slightly from the exertion. "After your bath you'll need to eat some food," said James, watching Sirius worriedly. "I brought some for you already, we can even eat in here if you like."

"That…would be nice. Thank you." Sirius turned his grey eyes to James, and James understood the emotion that hid behind them only too well. He knew Sirius had difficulty accepting help from others, always taking it with a look of suspicion, but James understood. And perhaps it was this notion, one Remus and Peter knew as well, that made Sirius trust them like this. Perhaps it was the understanding of suffering that brought people together.

"Will you be helping me strip as well, then?" Sirius teased, and James snorted.

"If that's what you want…"

James dodged a toothbrush and left the bathroom, chortling. Just before closing the door, James looked at Sirius firmly. "Seriously though. Call if you need something. I've seen it all before, Black, so don't even try for the modesty angle."

Sirius rolled his eyes as he began prying off his shirt. "Sod."

James closed the door and looked around his room. He stood there for a while, unsure of what he should do next. In all the excitement and frustration, James realized that he had not written to Remus and Peter yet about Sirius. Though there was not much he could actually tell them, he knew that they would want to be informed that their best friend had been—and technically still was—gravely ill.

Naturally when James actually sat down to write the letters, he found he'd used up the last of his parchment on the letter to Regulus. "'Course," James muttered as he strode out the door, making for the staircase.

He walked silently down the hall until he reached the study. He sifted through the drawers briskly, clicking his tongue at the mess his father had left; letters were stuffed in every corner of the bookcases, some edging out hopefully as James passed by, but James shook his head and said in a lighthearted tone, "Not today, little ones, and likely not ever." The envelopes silently withdrew back into the shelf.

"Here they are…" James found a stack of parchment rolls and swiped one. What would he write to Peter and Remus?  _'Hey guys, Sirius was poisoned last night and nobody seems to want to tell me why, while Hermione's shut herself away, but overall everyone's okay. Are you still coming for the Christmas ball?'_ James snorted. "Not bloody likely."

James was almost near the staircase when he heard a soft sound, making him pause. When he heard it again, he moved away from the stairs.

The hall was dim, bathing James in shadow and chill. He crept closer, following the sound as he fought down a shiver, until he saw a silhouette standing next to the entrance to the kitchens.

Hermione stared blankly at a plate in her hands, and James recognized it to be the one he had left for her in the morning. He was satisfied to see she had eaten all of it, but the feeling dwindled when he saw the plate trembling in her hand. Hermione was shaking, her eyes squeezed shut, before she bit her lip and looked up helplessly. She blinked several times as if fighting for control, and James's heart panged with sadness.

He moved forward, wanting to show his presence and offer her whatever comfort he could, for he could not bear to see her so at war with herself, but the moment he stepped from shadows Hermione caught a glimpse of him and shrieked, sending the plate crashing to the floor. Her hand grasped at empty air as she instinctively reached for her wand, but it was not on her. Only until James shouted her name and reassured her that it was him that Hermione settled.

"What—what are you doing here?" Her brows knit together with frustration as a House Elf scurried from the kitchen, having heard the noise, and quickly cleared up the mess.

"I needed parchment," replied James, looking at her unsurely. When she made no move to reply, James continued, "Sirius is awake again."

The mention of Sirius seemed to stir something in her, and she finally met his eyes. "Is he—how is he feeling?"

"A bit better. He's taking a bath as we speak."

Hermione nodded quietly. She pushed away from the kitchen door and moved to walk past James. James shook his head, but did not say anything.

Hermione paused by him. "I know I'm being unfair to you," she said quietly. James turned to her in surprise. "You deserve answers. And—and I'll give them. I swear it, I will." Her eyes started to glisten again, and she said in a wavering voice, "But I can't, not right now. It's all just…"

James almost reached forward to pat her gently on the shoulder, but curled his fingers and willed his arm to remain at his side. "Okay."

Hermione turned to leave. Quickly, before she could disappear again, James asked, "Won't you at least see Sirius?"

Hermione paused by the staircase, a hand on the railing. "It's better if I don't." Glancing at him briefly, she ran up the stairs.

James stood there for a while, unable to shake the pooling sadness in his stomach; for when Hermione had glanced at him, despite how fleeting it had been, he had seen a fear like no other—and greater than that, a look of loneliness that had settled so deeply within Hermione that he felt she would never truly be able to shake.

And it was then that James realized that what Hermione needed was not himself, not Sirius or Peter or Remus, not even Severus Snape. They would never understand, never be close enough to her to truly help in the way she needed. She did not need their comforts or reassurances. Her wounds were not superficial, and could not be fixed by their company.

It was a wound much deeper, and one she would have to heal on her own.

**xxx**

It was the third time that he passed by the telephone, and he still could not find it in himself to pick up the receiver.

_It's not my decision,_  James repeated in his head, and gritted his teeth. A week had now passed and Sirius was growing healthier by the day. Sirius had stopped James from sending the owls to Remus and Peter, saying he'd rather be in a mostly-recovered health before they came to visit and engulf him with questions and embraces.

Another thing that worried him was the absence of his parents. The day Sirius and Hermione had left on their trip, his mother and father told James very suddenly that would be leaving for Romania to visit distant relations. As far as James knew they should have returned by now—it worried him, and he wrote to them last night, but had yet to receive a reply. It was odd, for with his parents gone the weight of the family had been unintentionally placed on him—managing the house, taking care of Sirius, and making sure Hermione was okay.

Or, as okay as she could be.

There had been several instances when James had almost run into Hermione in the rare occasions that she stepped out of her room, and each had left her in a state of panic; it had not taken long for James to see that any time he almost touched her, she would react defensively. He did not know why, and when he asked Sirius about it, he shook his head and did not understand either.

And when James prodded on what had happened the night they returned, Sirius merely closed his eyes and said, "It's not my place to say just yet. I need to speak with Hermione first."

Hermione, in turn, would not see even Sirius.

James knew that she desperately wanted to. She paid rapt attention whenever he updated her about him, but Hermione never pressed any further than that.

But what was worrying him, what was eating away at James, was when Hermione slept.

Her dreams were fitful, enough that James could hear her muttering in her sleep. Normally he would not intervene, but when her mutterings became cries James would panic and rush to her side—only to find her even angrier that he came at all, shrinking from him, and urging him out of her room. He noticed she would always reach for her wand but never had it on her, to which he asked, "Where is your wand?"

She replied quite coldly, "I don't have a wand anymore."

James was in shock. Sirius did not know about it either, for when he asked him about it Sirius all but jumped out of the bed.

"No wand? What the hell is she talking about?" he blanched, and tried to swing his legs over the mattress to get up. He stumbled and James had to bodily push a protesting Sirius back onto the mattress.

" _Stop_  always trying to get up when you can't!" James growled. "Honestly, you'd think you'd've learned by now!"

"I'm tired of always sitting!" Sirius exploded agitatedly. "Always getting my meals here, always needing help to get to the bloody toilet—I need to get  _better_ , I need to see her—"

"And you'll do all those things, but not by being a bloody idiot," James said shortly. He sighed and pushed his glasses up to rub tiredly at his eyes. "I don't know what to do anymore."

In the back of his mind, he knew Hermione needed help. She needed  _something_ , because staying by herself was hurting her far more than anything else.

And so, he stood by the telephone.

He stared at it in indecision. He wasn't even sure if he had the right number. But he had seen it in Hermione's room, written it down quickly while she was getting food from the kitchens, and felt positive it had to be the one. Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, James picked up the receiver and began to dial.

His stomach flipped nervously when it rang. It leapt in his throat when he heard a click and a soft voice say, "Evans residence."

"May I speak with Lily?" said James anxiously.

"Of course, dear."

He heard another sound, like a far-away shout and the phone being put down. James's fingers twisted around the cord apprehensively. Suddenly he heard Lily, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's James," he said hoarsely, and then cleared his throat. "Er, James. James Potter, from school."

"Potter?" She sounded incredulous. "Did you take this number from Hermione?"

"Er, yes. But—but not for what you think. Really," he assured, for he could imagine the delicate eye roll Lily would be giving him were she standing right before him. "I'm not calling about myself. It's about Hermione."

"What? What is it?" Lily asked, confused.

"That's the thing. I…I don't know. She's been unwell, and she's been having bad nights, bad dreams, where she'll…" he lowered his voice, and continued softly, "she's having panic attacks. I don't know what's going on, Evans, she won't speak to me or Sirius. She all but screams if anyone tries to get near her. My parents are away, I have no one else to contact, I'm—I'm really worried about her."

"…I'm glad you called me," Lily said softly. "When did this start?"

"A week ago. I really can't explain properly like this. Could you—that is—do you think you could come over?" James closed his eyes and sighed, clenching his jaw. "I don't know what to do, Lily. You're the closest to Hermione out of all of us."

There was a long pause. James blinked. "Evans, you still there?"

"Yes." Then, "I'll be there in an hour."

James nodded weakly, and hung up the phone.

For Hermione's sake, he hoped he did the right thing.

**xxx**

On the second knock James opened the door.

"Potter," Lily nodded.

James smiled. "Evans." He stepped aside to let her through, and closed the door behind her. "That was fast."

"I got my license," Lily shrugged. "Mum and Dad got me a car, so I didn't have to ask for a ride or take the bus anymore." She glanced up the winding staircase. "Is she in her room?"

"Yeah," James nodded. "Look, I…really appreciate you coming. Thank you."

Lily gazed at him softly. "It's nothing. She'd do the same for me. And even if she wouldn't, I would still come."

James led Lily upstairs, silence falling between them. With every step James felt heaviness in his chest tantamount to guilt. He kept imagining how horribly this would go wrong—how Hermione would no longer trust him—how his parents, once they returned, would be disappointed in him for not taking care of everything—

"This one," James stopped before Hermione's bedroom door. "She's inside."

Lily nodded, staring resolutely at the door. Noticing that James lingered, she glanced sideways at him. "Later, then, Potter."

Without a second's hesitation, Lily raised her arm and knocked three times.

Inside, Hermione groaned.

How many times would James try to see her? Hermione was far past disgruntled and well into the territory of grave annoyance. Why couldn't James see that she needed time to herself? Why could nobody understand that the last thing she wanted—the last thing she was ready for—was a perpetual audience? The visitors in her memories haunted her enough; the deadened green eyes, the sound of screaming, and the choking cold grip that wrapped around Hermione's body in a slimy, lithe embrace, squeezing the air out of her until her vision swam in darkness and agony—

The door knocked again. Sighing unhappily, Hermione did her best to squash down the haunting thoughts and opened the door.

Lily Evans stood before her.

"Hello," said Lily, smiling slightly. "May I come in?"

Hermione's mouth parted in shock. For a while she stood there on the threshold to her room, dumbstruck and staring at Lily as if she were an apparition.

Finally Hermione forced out a 'yes', and let Lily through.

She sat awkwardly on her bed as Lily took off her coat and boots. An unsure smile tugged at Hermione's lips when Lily finally sat across from her.

"James Potter has my phone number," said Lily with a slight smirk.

"What?" said Hermione, surprised. "How?"

"I'd guess he nicked it from your room when you weren't looking," Lily waved off-handedly. "Gave me a call and asked me to come over."

Hermione stilled. She picked at the bedsheet, lowering her eyes.

"Did he?"

"He did."

"Hm."

Lily eyed her carefully. "I'm not here to start interrogating you or give you a hard time, Hermione. Your brother's worried about you, that's all. But I'm not just going to march in here and demand answers—that's not who I am."

Hermione looked at Lily, her eyes widened. "Then what?"

Lily shrugged. "Anything. Nothing. But you won't stay locked away in your room by yourself anymore; that's the only thing. You've had your time." Lily paused. "But, if you don't want me in here, I won't stop you. Do you want me to leave?"

Hermione closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head.

"Then I'll stay," Lily said softly.

They sat in silence for a while, and Lily pushed herself forward so she could lean against the wall. Hermione let out a short laugh.

"Something funny?"

"James," Hermione smiled, shaking her head bitterly. "He must've told you what's been going on, then."

"Actually, no," said Lily, frowning. "All he said was you were having some bad dreams. He didn't know what else to do, what with the Potters gone."

"They're gone?"

Lily saw the incredulous look and she narrowed her eyes. "You didn't notice that the Potters weren't home?"

"I…" Hermione trailed, thinking back to every time she left her room. She had assumed…she thought they weren't asking about her out of respect for her privacy, and that each time she'd went to get food, they simply weren't downstairs…

"But then—where are they?"

"I wouldn't know," Lily replied. Hermione's heart panged, guilt washing over her in ripples. The Potters hadn't been home for a week, and she never even cared to realize it.

Hermione dropped her head in her hands, hunching over with the weight of her mistakes bearing down on her body. Every breath felt like a herculean effort, every nerve in her body stretched thin and raw, her mind swirling in a sea of confusion and worry and anger. She closed her eyes when she felt Lily rubbing her back in soft, soothing sweeps.

"I'm so tired," said Hermione.

"I know, darling," Lily murmured softly, and inside something in Hermione fractured.

The words, so gently uttered, without any judgement or expectation or pity, words she had  _missed,_ brought a sudden onslaught of memories and emotions. A clear image of Hermione's mother emerged in her mind, who had often soothed Hermione's worries away with gentleness and warmth and patience, and a great shudder rippled through her.

" _Lily,_ " said Hermione, anguished. She looked up at Lily with helplessly wide eyes and in moments she was wrapped in a warm, tight embrace. She sank into it, her body trembling, and held onto Lily with all she had left in her, with every ounce of love she could possibly and impossibly give. It was the first time Hermione allowed herself to be held since the cave, too terrified of the life being squeezed out of her, but in that moment Lily's arms were Hermione's providence, and she never felt safer.

"I'm sorry," Hermione wept, and she could feel Lily's head shake no, that it was alright, but Hermione knew it  _wasn't_. And for a moment she hated herself for it, hated that she was being so deplorably  _weak_  and put everyone she loved in danger and hated that she wasn't able to destroy the horcruxes on her own. She hated the lies that threaded her friendships together, the pain and danger she put Sirius and Regulus and Snape through, the tears she could not control or stop. She hated that Hermione had the chance to be Lily's friend and know what it meant to be loved by her, to be held by her, to be cared by her, when Harry was denied that right. It felt like betrayal; it felt like injustice.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said again, and Lily stroked her hair.

"What's there to be sorry about?" said Lily quietly. "You're allowed to feel pain, Hermione; you're allowed to mourn your suffering."

"No," Hermione shook her head against Lily's chest, sniffling. "It's more than that. It's so much more than that. I owe you so many apologies, Lily, I owe everyone an apology; I wish I wasn't here, I wish I had my parents…"

Lily stroked her hair silently, letting Hermione go on. "I haven't been truthful with you Lily. For a very long time. I wish I'd told you first. I-I  _wanted_ to, but I was just so afraid." She chuckled, wiping her eye. "If I had a Knut for every time I felt afraid..."

Half-heartedly, Hermione slowly extracted herself from Lily's arms. Lily looked at her inquisitively, but no less warm. Hermione glanced down at her hands, her insides writhing with anxiety and the smallest sliver of hope. "Will you—will you promise not to be angry with me? At least not at first. Please, please, please."

Lily looked at Hermione in shock. After a while, she finally said, "Yes."

Hermione could not hold it in any longer, did not  _want_ to deny herself the freedom of telling Lily. Despite the warning in her heart, despite the misery that came with confiding her secret and worrying that she had sentenced yet another friend to the uncertainty of pain, in that moment Hermione could not stop. It was the first time she was telling someone not because she had to, and not because someone figured it out and she was forced to tell the truth. She was telling Lily of her own volition and her own consent—not out of misunderstanding or a sense of duty, but because she was simply human.

"You won't believe me at first, but just try," Hermione said quietly. "It sounds ridiculous even to me…" she shook her head. "Merlin. Okay. Lily, I'm a time-traveler."

Lily blinked. "A time-traveler."

"Yes." Hermione continued, "I was born 19th September, 1979. I went to school at Hogwarts, as one would, until the end of my sixth year, when Dumbledore came to me and asked me to take on a mission. It would be lifelong and permanent, but—but I agreed, because it would save my friends and family. Voldemort, you see, he—he's still around in my time, and was getting stronger and stronger…he went as far as to split his soul into six pieces and conceal them into various objects, just so he could never be truly destroyed.

"Dumbledore, worried about what would happen in the future, used a Time-Turner to see if we would win the war. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure he wanted to go into the future to destroy Voldemort but it didn't work the way he wanted. So he came back, pulled me aside, and told me what had to be done. Everybody was dead, you see. Voldemort had won. Everyone I cared about, everyone who had the fate of being born with wizard's blood from muggle parents, were dead."

Lily inhaled sharply, but did not comment. Hermione looked away bitterly. "Perhaps I was young and still learning, perhaps I was brave to the point of stupidity, but I accepted the mission. I let Dumbledore use me to go into the past, to 1975, and destroy the horcruxes as they are being made thus leaving Voldemort vulnerable. But it hasn't been easy. I've made so many mistakes and put my friends' lives in danger anyway."

She looked at Lily, her eyes red-rimmed and weary. Hermione could see the pain in Lily's gaze, the way her eyes flickered over Hermione as if she wanted to reach out to her.

"That's what happened last week, Lily. Sirius, Regulus, and I had gone hunting down a horcrux, and it went all wrong. I put Sirius's life in danger, he—he almost  _died_!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "And Regulus, he tried so hard. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have made it out. He saved my life. I made him watch Sirius suffer, I poured poison down Sirius's throat, and a lake full of Inferi rose from the water and tried killing us…" Hermione could not speak anymore, too overwrought with emotion, and pressed her hands against her eyes.

Once her tears finished, she straightened once more. Lily had yet to say anything, but she was not running and she was not calling Hermione a liar. It gave Hermione the confidence to continue.

"I know it makes no sense. I know it sounds impossible, but this my truth. I'm not from this time. I used a special Time-Turner that permanently leaves you decades into the past, reforming destiny. When I got here, I woke up in this room and found myself to be James Potter's adoptive sister. My relatives had just been murdered. I already had a transfer letter from the Headmaster that I would be attending Hogwarts as a fifth year. Everything was laid out for me without my having to do anything.

"And I've been lying Lily—lying to you, to James, to Remus and Peter, and Severus and Sirius before they found out who I really am. It's killing me. It's eating me away. I thought I could do it, I thought things were getting better once I had destroyed three of Voldemort's horcruxes. But this last one, the one in the cave, it's destroyed me. I feel fear,  _all the time_. I feel weak and tired and alone. I'm so  _tired_  Lily," Hermione said weakly. "I'm so tired. I've tried being brave for more than a year now, but it's not working. I feel alone and scared, like nothing I do will make a difference. I can't bear the thought of you or anyone else getting hurt because of me." Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced the truth to come from her lips, "I can't bear doing this anymore."

They sat in silence, the only sound being Hermione's sniffling. Lily reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a box of tissues, and handed them to Hermione. Hermione took it gratefully and blew her nose.

After a while, Lily said quietly, "That is a heavy, heavy burden for such a small person."

Hermione looked up at Lily sharply, hope in her eyes.

"You—you believe me?"

"Do you really have to ask that?" Lily raised an eyebrow. Hermione was struck speechless. Lily sighed. "Well first, I can't believe Albus bloody Dumbledore did something as foolish as experiment with the Sands of Destiny without having a real plan. And  _then_ , as if he couldn't make matters any worse, he enlisted a seventeen-year-old girl to leave behind her entire life just to clean up his own mess?"

Hermione's mouth dropped in shock. "You-you know about the Sands of Destiny?"

"I've done my fair share of reading, Hermione," said Lily serenely. "What you described when telling your tale fits what the Sands of Destiny are supposed to do. But I never imagined they actually existed. I thought it was mere myth."

"I did too," said Hermione, still in disbelief. "But yes, Dumbledore found the Time-Turner."

Lily nodded. "One thing I don't quite understand," she began, and Hermione prepared herself for the worst. "Why did you think I would be angry with you?"

Hermione's lips parted. "Oh, well…I guess I just thought you'd be angry I hadn't told you sooner. That I had put so many people in danger."

Lily leaned forward, peering into Hermione's watery brown eyes. "And has anyone been angry on your behalf, for the amount of danger you have to put yourself in?"

Hermione's eyes widened. Not knowing what to say, she stared at Lily's piercing green eyes, and felt something like peace settling in her heart.

" _Lily._ "

For what seemed like hours, Lily and Hermione talked. Hermione was feeling more and more like herself again, and found herself laughing more than once at something Lily said.

Eventually a knock came from outside, and without a word Lily sprang up and opened the door halfway.

"Is everything alright?" asked James, his eyes flitting past the door unsurely.

Lily smiled.

"It is. It means a lot you stopped by to ask. We're going to talk a bit more, if you don't mind."

At James's unconvinced look, Lily softened her gaze. "Honestly. It's going to be alright."

When Lily returned to Hermione's side, Hermione groaned.

"I have a thousand apologies for James. He's been so kind and patient, I've worried him so much these past few days."

"He's a good man," Lily agreed, a soft smile on her lips. "You should have heard him on the phone. He was so nervous, calling me."

Hermione smiled. "Did he do that stutter-repeat thing?"

"Yeah," Lily said fondly.

"He always does that around you, it's hilarious," Hermione grinned, and Lily ducked her head. Hermione watched Lily, a knowing look dawning on her. "Lily Evans," she said wondrously. "You're starting to fancy him."

Lily shot her a glare. "I am not," she folded her arms. "I'm simply…acknowledging that he has many redeeming qualities. He's a good brother to you, and a good friend. He's grown a lot since fifth year."

"He has," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I think he realized trying to be impressive wasn't actually impressing anybody."

"About bloody time," Lily said under her breath.

They fell in companionable silence. Lily looked at her suddenly, and Hermione quirked a brow. "What is it?"

Lily pressed her lips together. "If you could…would you go back?"

Hermione went still. "What?"

"If you could, if you somehow had a chance to go back to your proper time, would you go back?"

"I…" Hermione didn't know what to say. Would she go back? Instinctively her mind said,  _Yes!_ But when she thought about leaving Lily, and James, and Remus, Peter, and Severus….And when her mind came to Sirius, her heart twisted painfully. Could she leave them?

"What does it matter?" said Hermione finally. "It'll never happen. I can't use the Time-Turner anymore. The sand is all gone."

"That's exactly it," said Lily, staring deeply at her as if willing for Hermione to see what Lily was seeing. "The Sands still exist somewhere, don't they? You used your two tries, so they disappeared. I'd bet you anything there's still two grains of sand in the Time-Turner you have, the grains you used up. The rest are gone."

Hermione frowned, but now she was getting curious. She  _did_ remember seeing a tiny speck of red sand in the Time-Turner…hastily Hermione dropped to her knees and dug out her trunk, shoving things aside until she found her little handbag. When she took out the golden Time-Turner, Lily inhaled sharply.

Hermione held the pendant up to her eyes so that the light would hit it directly. Her heart faltered when, just as Lily had guessed, she could make out two tiny grains of red sand inside.

"Lily…how did you know?" she asked as she handed over the necklace to Lily's outstretched hand.

"It was a theory," Lily muttered, sounding just as surprised as Hermione as she inspected the Time-Turner. "From what I've read and what you told me. I didn't think I'd actually be right."

"But what does this mean?" asked Hermione. "Are you saying somewhere right now, the Sands of Destiny are in a different vessel? Hidden away somewhere?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Lily pondered. "We know they exist. Someone must have used it and tested it to have written down its properties. Dumbledore used it twice, and still managed to give you this one to use for yourself. Shouldn't the sands have disappeared for him as well? Or did he go out and find it again for you to use?"

"Surely he would've just used it on himself, wouldn't he?" Hermione said dubiously, biting her lip. "Why bother giving me this task?"

Lily fell silent, thinking.

"The laws of nature," she said suddenly. "He broke them by returning to his own present time. He was dying, he could never have used it in time—or maybe, he wasn't able to." Lily's eyes flitted frantically in thought. "There's always consequences…maybe Dumbledore had broken too many rules by then to be granted use of the Sands of Destiny again."

"Maybe," said Hermione distantly. "Again, this leads us nowhere. We have no idea where the Sands of Destiny are right now. And besides, my priority is to destroy the horcruxes, not look for a way back home."

"God Hermione, don't you  _want_  a long-term plan?" Lily snapped. "Why won't you allow yourself to even consider it? Look, you  _will_  destroy the horcruxes and defeat Voldemort and survive. It's going to happen. So why not think ahead? You just told me how unhappy you are here," Lily said, and Hermione's chest tightened.

"N-no, I didn't mean…I'm happy, I love you all…"

"But it's not the same," Lily finished quietly. "I'm just giving a suggestion, that's all. The option is there. I don't want you to feel like you're trapped here forever, since that's something that's been bothering you for a long time."

Hermione wanted to argue, but kept silent. There were too many variables in this tentative, impossible plan. The Sands of Destiny worked in a way that reformed fate to neatly fit the time-traveler in the desired decade. Would she not be damaging the fabric of space and time by reforming her destiny  _again_? Did she really even want to return?

But the idea of it, the smallest prospect that it was possible to go back, whispered to Hermione tantalizingly.

When their stomachs began growling loudly, Lily laughed and jumped off the bed. "I think it's high time we left this room, now."

Hermione smiled and followed suit, stretching her arms high above her head. Lily reached forward and gave her one last long, warm hug. Hermione stiffened at first, but hugged back tightly.

Lily pulled away. "I'm going to check on James. Poor chap must be running in circles in his room." She looked at Hermione unsurely. "Will you try talking to Sirius?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I think…I should. I've avoided him long enough." She took a great shuddering breath, steadying herself.

Lily tapped a finger under Hermione's chin. "Do what you're comfortable with. Nobody's forcing you, okay?"

"I know," said Hermione.

Lily looked at her worriedly. "Everybody makes mistakes. You can't blame yourself and spiral every time something goes wrong. Sirius and Regulus, even Snape—they chose to help you. They love you, Hermione. It's hard not to," she smiled wryly. "You've been accustomed to internalizing everything until you reach a breaking point, and this one has been the hardest on you. It's time for you to start trusting us too."

With that, Lily gently opened Hermione's door and left the room, leaving the door open. Hermione bit her lip and let Lily's comforting words wash through her. She wasn't wrong; since the very beginning and during her school years at Hogwarts, Hermione always internalized her stress and misery until she broke down in a very public and emotional way. It was exhausting, and Hermione wasn't sure if she would break so easily from the habit. But the words that had stuck with Hermione the most was the notion that perhaps it  _was_  time to start trusting others with herself.

Hermione sauntered out of the room and walked across the hall. Licking her dry lips and making sure there were no tear stains down her cheeks, Hermione entered Sirius's room.

He was sitting up on the bed, gazing softly out the window. At the sound of the door opening he turned his head, and Hermione was momentarily robbed of breath when those familiar grey, penetrating eyes met hers.

"Hermione," Sirius said suddenly, trying to sit up, "I—"

Hermione crossed the two steps it took to reach his bed and sat threw her arms around him. Sirius returned the embrace, engulfing her in his arms and pressing his face into her untamable hair.

She pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I'm sorry I've avoided you and James. I should've handled the situation better, and I didn't."

"Love, it's alright," said Sirius softly. "It hurt a bit, but it's alright. You're here now. You needed time." He looked at her unsurely. "I sort of…don't really know what happened in the cave after I started drinking the potion. I think I blacked out."

"You did for a bit," Hermione said hoarsely and looked away, ashamed. "You s-started screaming, asking us to kill you. But it stopped once you finished the last cupful, and I got the horcrux."

"Did you destroy it?" he asked, hope lighting in his eyes.

Hermione nodded silently. Sirius closed his eyes and exhaled in relief. "That's not all," said Hermione. "The lake—it was full of Inferi. I disturbed the water by accident and they came out and attacked. I used fiendfyre on them and it worked, but one of them grabbed me and tried to—" she swallowed thickly. "Regulus managed to kick him into the fire. My wand broke in the process. I had to use Regulus's to Apparate us back home."

"Blimey…I don't remember any of this," Sirius breathed, his brows knit together in concentration.

Hermione stroked his shoulder. "It's okay. Kreacher didn't remember either, remember? Else he would've warned us about the Inferi."

"Damn. You're right." Sirius sighed, rubbing his hand against his jaw. When he turned to look at her, his gaze softened. He reached out and brushed his thumb under her eyes. "You've been crying."

Hermione suppressed a snort. "You have no idea." She looked down at herself a bit self-consciously. "Yeah, I'm sure I look quite attractive right now, don't I," she said dryly.

"You always do," said Sirius simply. Hermione looked at him sharply, and Sirius seemed to realized what he had said aloud, for his eyes had gone wide and his neck began to grow pink.

But Hermione, despite herself, smiled slowly. She bit the inside of her lip when Sirius started smiling too, until he laughed and she hit him lightly on the shoulder.

"I told Lily," Hermione added, peering at Sirius unsurely. He merely smiled.

"I'm glad. I had a feeling you've been wanting to for a bit."

"Oh  _did_  you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Sirius nodded smugly.

"I did."

Hermione gazed at Sirius. "I'm glad you're alright, Sirius."

"Of course I'm alright," said Sirius. "I was with you."

**xxx**

Lily wasn't sure which bedroom belong to James, but decided to try the one whose door was already open.

A strange feeling was blooming in her stomach as she crept closer. Lily frowned at it, not at all happy with what her subconscious was trying to tell her. She peeked inside and saw James sitting in front of a desk, chewing on a sugar quill.

Lily cleared her throat.

James glanced at her and scrambled to his feet. Lily hid a smile when he stumbled a bit, raking his hand sheepishly through his untidy hair.

"How is she?" asked James hesitantly.

Lily shrugged, her expression neutral. "Better, I think."

"Thank Merlin," James visibly deflated a bit, the worry in his shoulders loosening with relief. Lily smiled at his concern.

"You care about her a lot," said Lily observantly.

"'Course I do. She's my sister," said James. "And my friend. I couldn't stand seeing her so miserable."

"You made a good choice, asking for help," said Lily. "Not many people do that, you know. Asking for help when they know the situation is beyond their reach."

James shrugged. "It's not a contest. I don't care if I'm not the one Hermione, or anybody else I care about, can turn to. As long as they get the help they need, that's what matters."

Lily nodded. "She's lucky to have you for family."

James smiled at her warmly, and Lily smiled back.

**xxx**

After a quick phone to her mum, Lily announced that she would be staying the night. Hermione implored that it was not necessary but Lily was having none of it.

"D'you want take-away?" Lily asked as they sat crowded in Sirius's room.

"What's that?" asked James as he braided Sirius's hair very badly (though Sirius seemed to find it extremely amusing).

"Muggle fast food, basically. It's  _very_ good if you know the right places. I can order us some if you like?"

"Oh I haven't had take-away in  _ages_ ," Hermione moaned wistfully. "Yes, please!"

"But we have plenty of food," James reassured in confusion. "Honestly, just because Mum and Dad are gone doesn't mean we'll  _starve_."

"Yes, but this is take-away," Hermione said patiently. "And you yourself just said you didn't know what it was. What better time to have an exciting night with just us four, the tele, and muggle food?"

"You two help Sirius get downstairs, I'll get the phone," Lily jumped up and skipped out of the room, while Sirius used James for support to stand up. Hermione was happy to see that he really  _was_  getting better, and the weakness that the potion had caused in his body was slowly dissipating.

Sirius and Hermione had eventually sat James down to tell him what exactly had happened the night they returned from the cave. He had been equal parts furious and frightened, and ended by making them promise to tell James the truth whenever they would go out hunting for horcruxes. Hermione knew that James could tell they still weren't telling him _everything_ , but did not press any further.

Once Sirius, James, Lily, and Hermione had settled comfortably downstairs, Lily took it upon herself to sift through the channels on the tele as they waited for the take-away to arrive.

"There!" Hermione said frantically. "I think it's a new episode!"

Lily crowed in excitement and rushed to sit next to Hermione on the sofa. When the opening credits began, Sirius scowled.

"What is this?"

"Doctor Who," Lily and Hermione said in unison.

"Doctor what?" said Sirius skeptically. James laughed.

"It's this strange show these two watch," James recalled fondly. "Evans told me all about it last summer, remember?"

"It's a show about a time-traveling alien who flies in a big blue box," Lily explained. Sirius smirked and looked knowingly at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"Where's this alien from?" Sirius humored them.

"From the planet Gallifrey. He's what you'd call a time lord, and he has the ability to regenerate into a new person as a defense mechanism when he's nearly about to die," Lily told them. James, to their surprise, was genuinely intrigued.

"Muggles have the most amazing imaginations," Sirius grinned. "So how many times has this wonky bloke regenerated, then?"

"Three times that we know of. This guy's the fourth doctor," Lily pointed at the screen. "I love his companion, though, Sarah Jane Smith. There she comes now," they all watched the screen as a young, brown-haired woman in a little hat emerged from the blue box. Lily sighed adoringly.

When the take-away arrived, they discovered Lily had ordered Indian food. Hermione, already quite accustomed to the spice, dug in quite easily, but within a few bites James and Sirius were reaching for the water in desperate gulps.

"What is an android and  _why_ are they invading?" James complained, still not used to the amount of unfamiliar muggle terminology. Hermione never realized how much they didn't know, how ignorant the wizarding world was to the rest of the world.

"We really need to take you to out to muggle places," said Hermione. "I'm so serious. You really are missing out on some truly impressive technology and culture."

"We can go tomorrow," Sirius suggested eagerly.

"I dunno," Hermione bit her lip. "I don't want you to overexert yourself. It'll be a lot of walking."

"We need to go anyway, though," said James. "Hermione, you need a new wand."

Hermione blinked, startled. "Oh. Oh, right, yes. I do need a wand."

"We'll go bright and early tomorrow," said Lily with a tone of finality. "It's not safe wandering around without a wand, especially in these times."

With that settled, the four Gryffindors returned to their meal, which lasted very briefly after a loud argument broke on whether those muggles were actually put under a very strong Imperius curse.

**xxx**

Wrapped in woolly scarves and knitted sweaters, James, Sirius, Lily, and Hermione packed inside Lily's car and headed to Diagon Alley. They parked just outside the Leaky Cauldron and eagerly rushed to the back of the pub, Sirius hobbling a bit slower than the rest. Hermione wrapped her arm around his as she guided him to the brick wall, and Lily tapped on the bricks to allow entrance to Diagon Alley.

It felt like home again, the one place that never failed to bring a smile to her lips and fond memories before her eyes. Crowds of younger children had their faces pressed against the display glass of  _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ , admiring the latest broom (a Cleansweep Six). Quickly they herded towards  _Ollivander's_ , and rubbed their hands at the warmth of the shop once inside.

It had been so long since she entered Ollivanders; one only ever made the one trip just before the start of the first year, so to stand here again in the middle of the winter felt odd. She hoped that it would be the last time.

"Wonder where he is?" Sirius whispered, glancing about. Ollivander was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione stepped forward to the counter and peered down the endless rows of shelves. She turned back and shrugged helplessly at Sirius. When she turned back to the counter, however, Hermione jumped in surprise when she saw Ollivander waiting for her.

"How can I help you today, dear?" he asked kindly.

"Oh! Er-I'd like a new wand, please," Hermione said politely.

Ollivander clicked his tongue. "Broke it then, did you? Such a shame…though I don't recall selling you one. Where did you buy yours last time?"

"Er—Gregorovitch's."

"Ah, of course, of course…well, I can assure you that any wand sold  _here_ is made much sturdier, I can tell you that…yes…" he reached behind him and danced his fingers across the boxes, until fishing out a black one. "Try this. Oak, dragon heartstring, nine and a quarter inches."

Hermione lifted the wand and swung it, and accidentally set a pot on fire. Ollivander clicked his tongue again irritably, extinguishing the flames with a flick of his wand and walking down the row of shelves.

"No, no…something very particular, I can sense it…ah." He returned to the counter and set down a box, opening it delicately and holding the wand out to her. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she held it. It seemed oddly familiar.

When Hermione waved the wand, she felt an inexplicable burst of energy course through her; the tip of the wand glow white until bursting into a shower of golden sparks, each which became a caricature of twittering birds. She couldn't stop the grin that spread on her face, deftly rolling the wand between her thumb and forefinger. Holding this wand felt natural to her, as if she were always meant to have it.

When Hermione looked back at Ollivander to announce she'd be purchasing this one, she was surprised to find him peering at her curiously.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Curious," he muttered. "This is indeed very, very curious."

"What is?"

"That wand there is Holly, eleven inches, with a single phoenix feather in its core. Very nice and supple in your hands, don't you think?"

"Yes…" The wheels in Hermione's mind were turning, and the words reverberated in her mind like a distant echo.  _Holly…phoenix feather…eleven inches…_

Hermione froze, the color draining from her face. Slowly, she looked at the wand in her hand, now trembling slightly in her grip.

Harry.

This was Harry's wand.

She did not pay attention to what Ollivander was saying. She caught glimpses of words like 'another feather', 'powerful wizard', but she did not care. Harry's wand, the wand that had saved him so many times, the one that had connected with Voldemort's almost in an act of defiance, now belonged to her.

She swallowed thickly. Lifting her other hand, she ran her fingers along the wand carefully, and closed her eyes. For the first time in sixteen months, Hermione felt immeasurably close to Harry Potter.  _This…_ Hermione gazed at the wand, a lump forming in her throat. This was the closest she could ever get to the Harry that she knew, the Harry from her past. She could not help but feel that this was, indeed, a design of fate; that though Harry was not with her, and their relationship would never be the way it once was, fate had given her a small gift to remember him by forever. Every time she'd cast a spell, every time she'd hold this wand, Harry would be there with her. In her memories, in her heart, Harry would always be there.

And so she realized that by owning Harry's wand and denying him the fate of defeating Voldemort and taking it upon herself, Hermione knew she had done something right.

Tearing her gaze away from the wand, Hermione saw that James and Lily had taken to standing on either side of her.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked, her voice heavy with concern.

Hermione beamed, her heart feeling lighter than it ever had before in her life, and she replied quite simply, "I've never been better."


	23. Half-Truths

**Chapter 23**

_Half-Truths_

Lucius Malfoy stared at the empty slot. A fine layer of dust had gathered there where a leather-bound book had once stood, flecking silver and grey in the dim candlelight.

He bit the tip of his thumb as he paced back and forth before the row of bookcases. The wax now melted dangerously low on the candlesticks, the flickering flame cast oblong shadows across the marble floor. _How long? How long?_

A loud _pop!_ echoed in the room and a little elf appeared by Lucius's side, his knobby fingers twisting in the tattered pillowcase hanging loosely from his shoulders.

"Well?" Lucius demanded.

"The item Master described isn't in the Estate," the elf knelt clumsily before Lucius, looking up at him cautiously. "Master, we tried—"

" _Not. Hard. Enough_ ," he snarled, and the elf shrank lower onto the ground. "It's here! It's somewhere in this house, it has to be—"

"Lucius."

Lucius stopped. The threatening curl of his lip slipped, and he swallowed thickly. "I did not hear you come in, dear."

Narcissa arched an eyebrow, her nightgown gliding soundlessly across the marble, and stopped before Lucius. "So," Narcissa appraised the frightened House-Elf. "He did not find it." She looked up Lucius again, her face hardened. "You know what this means."

Lucius paled. "Narcissa…"

Narcissa stared back wordlessly. Lucius closed his eyes, the fight deflating from his body.

"He will be angry," Lucius whispered, his eyes darting back and forth across Narcissa's face. "He will be so angry, Narcissa. You do not know his fury, you've never seen….the _things_ he can do, he is not called the Dark Lord without reason…"

"He will be angrier if he finds you've been keeping this from him," said Narcissa sharply. "If you tell him now, on your own, you may have mercy."

Lucius wilted under her stare.

"I…I shall call on him in the morning—"

"You will call on him now," said Narcissa firmly. She turned away from Lucius to begin her own pacing. "He will see it as loyalty—to call at such an hour, as if you contacted him immediately. There will be trust. You must call him _now_!"

Lucius cursed. Slender fingers pulled back the white sleeve on his left arm as he stared at the pale skin underneath. The Mark was all but disappeared, receded into his skin until summoned. Lucius spread his fingers and held them hovering above his forearm.

It began as a small thrum, a vague sensation of _something_ until the burning began. He hissed through his teeth. The Mark seared his flesh as it resurfaced, twisting and coiling in fresh black ink as a skull yawned, and the spindly shape of a serpent unfurled from its mandible.

The _crack_ that followed was unmistakable.

The elf was still cowering where Lucius had lost his patience. Narcissa stepped forward and ordered, "Bring our guest straight here."

The little elf bobbed his head in a fervent curtsy, then disappeared.

"You should g…" Lucius started to suggest, but the look Narcissa gave him made the rest of his words die on his lips.

No word was spoken after that. Narcissa wrung her hands as she stared into the fireplace, her eyes flickering amber. Lucius leaned closer, his expression soft as he parted his lips, as if to say something. He froze when the door opened.

The elf bowed quickly before jumping aside. A cloaked figure swept into the room, and the air, as if sensing who had arrived, seemed to have gotten colder.

"Leave us," Narcissa said to the elf, and he promptly Disapparated.

Two pale, thin hands drew forward from the cloak and reached up, lowering the hood. Cruel, black eyes met theirs.

"This," Voldemort said coldly, "had better be important."

"O-of course, my lord," Lucius bowed, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I know not to call you unless absolutely necessary."

Lucius waited, silence stretching between them.

"Well?" Voldemort hissed.

Lucius exchanged glances with Narcissa, who pressed her lips in a thin line. Lucius swallowed thickly, and said in a hushed voice, "It…it is about the diary, my lord."

The air shifted suddenly—the Malfoys could feel it. Voldemort sauntered closely to where Lucius stood, his face without expression or concern.

"What of it?" Voldemort replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at me."

Lucius's hands trembled just slightly as he lifted his eyes to meet Voldemort's. They were narrowed, blank, watching him calmly. Lucius knew...Voldemort would try to enter his mind and read his thoughts, to catch if he was lying…Lucius inhaled sharply, gazing at Voldemort directly in the eye, and said, "The diary is missing, my lord."

The library was silent. Voldemort stared at him, then replied, "The diary…is missing."

"My lord."

Narcissa looked between the two men nervously. Voldemort's lip curled and his hand reached for his wand slowly, almost carelessly.

"When."

"Just now, my lord. We called as soon as we—"

"Now, let's not play games." Voldemort's high, cruel voice echoed loudly in the library as began to circle around Lucius, "you noticed it now, that I can obviously see. When did my possession go _missing_?"

Lucius's throat bobbed as he said quite faintly, "I…I would have to say more than a month at least, my lord."

Narcissa shrieked when Voldemort's wand slashed the air and Lucius convulsed, collapsing to the ground. Voldemort's mouth twisted into a snarl, baring his teeth as he jerked his wand away. Instantly Lucius's body went limp.

"You have failed me, in the deepest way," said Voldemort. He raised his wand higher.

"My lord, please!"

" _Narcissa, no!_ "

Narcissa rushed forward. "Lucius took the Vow to protect your possession to the best of his ability, and he still lives," Narcissa said quickly, ignoring Lucius. "The Vow has not been broken—he has done his best. H…have mercy, my lord. The name Malfoy remains true to you."

Voldemort paused, looking at Narcissa in the faintest surprise, as if he had only just noticed she was in the room. Narcissa willed her body to remain rigid under the Dark Lord's penetrating stare.

"So it would seem."

Lucius picked himself up from the floor, pushing back his hair and keeping his eyes trained carefully to the floor. Voldemort replaced the hood back onto his head and turned to leave.

"I want to know the names of every single person to enter this house since the day that diary entered this library. Every single wretched vermin."

Kicking aside the elf, who had scrambled forward to escort him out, Voldemort disappeared.

From a distance, they heard the telling _crack_ of Disapparation. Lucius sagged against the wall. Narcissa stared out the window, her face hidden in shadow. Lucius wiped the sweat from his brow and chanced a glance at his wife. "D…darling?" When no answer came, Lucius forced himself upright and went to her, stumbling only a little. He patted her shoulder gently. "Narcissa."

Narcissa looked up at him unsteadily. "There is a plague in our home, Lucius. And it will never rest until one of us is dead."

**xxx**

A cold wind was blowing outside, whistling faintly beyond the window. Hermione could see little swirls of snow gliding gently against the glass. She couldn't remember the number of times she'd done this—simply sitting by the fire on a cold night, a cup in hand while listening to distant sound of the tele. Of course it was not her father's favorite drama but James's, and the home was not quite hers, but it was close enough.

In her other hand was the wand. Harry's wand—her wand. Her thumb idly brushed the side of the wood, smooth and silent. The energy was… _different_ somehow, compared to her old wand. Harry's wand was no more skilled or better, rather that came from the one wielding it—but something was principally different when she held this wand.

Was it because she knew this was Harry's? Was it because she knew he was no longer bound to it, bound to the fate that rested with its wandbearer?

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

Hermione looked up. Sirius settled beside her on the sofa. He was holding a steaming mug with little gingerbread men adorned over it in his hand. Sirius stilled when Hermione stiffened, then shuffled a little away from her, mindful of their distance.

Hermione tried to clear her expression to something more neutral, hoping Sirius would understand she didn't mind him sitting near her. "Just appreciating the quiet," said Hermione, tucking her wand away.

"Lily called," said Sirius. "She made it home just fine."

"I'm glad," Hermione smiled. "I hope she didn't get into any trouble for staying over last night."

"I can't say," Sirius shrugged. Hermione nodded. Sirius watched her take a generous sip of tea. "You like that wand a lot, then?" Hermione looked at him in surprise, and Sirius smiled. "You've been quiet since we left Ollivander's. I can't imagine how I'd feel if mine snapped in half and needed replacing."

"It's not so bad. It was nice going to a wand shop again," said Hermione with a half-smile, but it became uncertain.

"What is it?"

Hermione peered at Sirius for a moment, as if in deep thought. "It's about the wand," she said finally. At Sirius's blank stare, Hermione sighed. "I may as well tell you. I don't see any reason you shouldn't know."

"Know what? Is something wrong with the wand?"

"No, no," Hermione said quickly, a little laugh escaping her. "Nothing like that. Quite the opposite, actually." Hermione picked her wand back up and gazed at it softly, almost with reverence. "This was Harry's wand. At least, it was supposed to be Harry's wand. But it's mine now."

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Harry? _The_ Harry?" Hermione nodded fervently. "But why? How?"

"It just happened," Hermione shrugged. "It chose me. _Me._ You see what this means, don't you? I'm changing things for the _good_. Harry's fate has changed. He's not the chosen one anymore, destined to defeat Lord Voldemort. I've spared him that."

"All that from the wand?"

Hermione clicked her tongue impatiently, turning herself so that she faced Sirius completely. "This isn't any old wand, and it wasn't coincidence that it chose Harry in 1991. The core is exactly the same as Voldemort's, making them sort of—sort of like brothers? Harry was meant to have that wand, because he was meant to face Voldemort."

"And now you have it," Sirius concluded. "So what—that makes you the new chosen one?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I think? I can't know for certain obviously, but it would only make sense. My having this wand…it has to mean that I will be the one to face Voldemort, not Harry." Hermione sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"And that prophecy we heard in the pub," Sirius's brow furrowed, as if putting pieces to a puzzle together. "D'you reckon that's got anything to do with it too?"

"It has to," said Hermione. "It's all pointing to me, isn't it? That prophecy, this wand, they were Harry's. Now they're mine."

Sirius stared into the fire, his hands wrapped tightly around the mug, and a comfortable silence passed between them. Hermione finished the last of her tea and set the cup aside. Of course this meant she would have to face Voldemort…her time of hiding in the shadows, silently killing parts of Voldemort's soul, was nearing an end…soon not even the canopy of the Potter house and the protection under Hogwarts would save her. A thrill of fear coursed through Hermione's body as she imagined Voldemort standing before her, his wand pointed at her heart, staring at her with a cold smile and shadowed, depthless eyes.

She shivered and the hairs prickled on her arms. Instinctively she folded her arms, as if shielding herself from Voldemort's gaze.

"There's a blanket in that basket by the fire, shall I get it for you?"

"No thank you," Hermione swallowed thickly. "I'll have to kill him."

Sirius looked at Hermione oddly. "Okay...but what did the blanket do to you to for it earn that death sentence?"

Hermione glared. "I'm not talking about the _blanket_."

"Then what?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Sirius blanched. "Voldemort? _You're_ going to kill Voldemort?" Hermione nodded. Sirius snorted loudly.

"I'm serious," she scowled. "I'll have to do it. It'll have to be done."

"Hermione, the closest you've come to killing anything is the ingredients required for potions," Sirius shook his head, draining his mug and setting it on the floor. "Not to be unsupportive—by all means destroy the darkest wizard in history—but I just can't imagine you doing that. Damage, maybe, but killing someone is something else."

"Sirius, I'll have to," Hermione said sharply, feeling slightly offended, and the feeling grew as Sirius continued shaking his head. Why wouldn't he believe her? "He'll be the last one, the last piece of tainted soul left to destroy, or else it'll all have been for nothing. And with this wand, now, it definitely has to be me."

Sirius shook his head again, not meeting her eyes. Hermione's ire rose. "What do you want from me, Sirius? I have to be realistic here. No one else has a clue of what to do about Voldemort. I came here to this time to end things once and for all, it—it's my responsibility to see it to the end!"

"No," said Sirius. "That's where you're wrong. Your responsibility in this time is to destroy the horcruxes. That was your mission. Nobody enlisted you to defeat Voldemort himself, Hermione. That is _not_ your responsibility."

"There is no other way; I can see that I have to—"

"You're not listening! You don't _have_ to do anything—not about him, just those evil blasted soul pieces scattered across the world—"

" _Sirius_ —"

"No! Don't expect me to sit here idly while you talk about killing Voldemort, as if it's something so easy and palatable. It's not. And I don't understand how you've just…just accepted this as your duty. Calling it fate."

"I never said it was easy. I don't want to do this, any of this. But I know it has to be me. I'm not going to run away from this."

"Okay. Okay, you're killing Voldemort. What will you do?" Sirius crossed his arms expectantly.

Hermione glowered. "I'll duel him."

"How? Using what spells?"

"I don't know, it depends on the situation!" Hermione said shrilly. "I can't predict the future, I've no idea how it'll go!"

"But you know enough that you'll duel him. Do you think you two will be alone? Be given some dark lord-muggleborn privacy? What if his followers are there?"

"Then I'll fight them too."

"What if there's fifty? A hundred? And all their wands are trained on your head."

"Then—then I'll Apparate out of there."

"But now you can't defeat Voldemort. So you'll presumably grab his arm and take him with you, right? He'd love an escort."

"Oh _please_ —"

"Now it's just you and Voldemort. You barely get a spell in before he's taken your wand. Now he's bound you in ropes—silken, probably, because he may be a murderer but he's got class—and breaks that precious destiny-wand right before your eyes. And then the torture begins."

Hermione was silent, breathing hard through her nose and glaring at Sirius with hate-filled eyes. His face was impassive, and continued relentlessly.

"He'll torture you for hours. It won't be a swift death. He'll know you destroyed his horcruxes. He'll want you to taste his wrath. You'll be mad before he kills you."

"Bravo," said Hermione, her voice trembling. "No, really, that was excellent. That was an experience. Your confidence in me—inspiring. I'll remember that on my next trip when I kill another horcrux."

Sirius looked just as furious. "I hope you do. I hope you understand what you're getting yourself into."

"Why are you so angry?" Hermione asked, incredulous. "Why're you taking this so personally?"

Sirius stared at her in a way that made Hermione glance away, her heart thudding. "Each time you hunt and destroy a horcrux, it becomes more dangerous. The risk is higher. Three weeks ago we all nearly died trying to get the locket. If you face Voldemort, someone who will _fight back_ , it's—" He closed his eyes. "Great witches and wizards have died at Voldemort's hand. I don't want you to be one of them too."

Hermione looked at him softly, feeling at a loss for words. "I won't be." Sirius shrugged. "I don't know what else to say."

Sirius shrugged again, picking at the thread of his sweater. "You don't have to say anything." He would not meet her eyes, a distant look about him. "You will do what you need to no matter what I say. It's who you are."

"You would too," Hermione said quietly. "If our roles were reversed, and you had to make this decision, you would too. You're just as stubborn as me."

A tight smile tugged at Sirius's lips. "Bloody hell. You're right."

Hermione smiled with him, yet neither quite reached their eyes.

"What're you going to do about James?"

The question came without warning, startling her. "What about James?"

"It's been a hellish few weeks," Sirius said frankly. "We were…recovering, and James took care of us without pressing on what happened. Surely you don't mean to keep him completely in the dark?"

"Have you told him anything?" Hermione asked, her voice turning sharp, though she did not mean for it.

Sirius stared back impassively.

"No. Of course not."

She released a breath she'd been holding in slowly. "Good," she muttered. "Good."

She felt his gaze on her as her mind went frantically from scenario to scenario. It was a question she had been avoiding for quite a while, one Lily had even prodded about. She knew it would be wrong of her to keep what happened from James…yet the thought of telling any more, of reliving any more, was a thought unbearable.

"I'm not saying you have to tell your whole life story," said Sirius, raising an eyebrow. "But you have to give something. It's wrong to withhold this from him."

"And what about Remus and Peter?" Hermione looked up at him, her eyes shining with turmoil. "Do you see the problem? It keeps going. The list is growing longer; another person condemned with my burden."

"Did you honestly believe you'd be able to keep this to yourself?" Sirius asked, incredulous. "Merlin, Hermione, I'm not saying you tell them you're a bloody time-traveler, just what happened in the cave! We can't avoid it, too much has changed since that day. They already know you're trying to defeat Voldemort, do they not? I don't like lying to my friends more than I am already."

Hermione looked away guiltily, feeling suddenly ill. "If they know how we're doing it, I put them in a position where it could be tortured out of them. You'll be targeted for having this knowledge. Don't you see how much safer it is if nobody else knew we were destroying horcruxes? Gods, I haven't even approached _Dumbledore!_ Nor will I ever, if I can help it."

"Then you planned poorly the moment you came to this age," said Sirius quietly, looking grim. "We were put in danger the moment you decided to befriend us."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "Not that you did anything wrong in having friends," he reassured quickly, leaning a bit closer as if it could calm her down. "You're only human. If you weren't, you'd be part of the Death Eaters, I'd reckon."

"No," Hermione said sharply. "They are just as human as us. Never forget that. They are only human too. They will live and die just as the rest of us. It's one of the things that comfort me," Hermione admitted, looking distantly at the crackling fire. "Even Voldemort is human."

They were quiet for a while, until Sirius said, "Have you decided, then?"

Hermione gazed at him, and her heart began to sink. "I don't want to, Sirius," she whispered, her voice troubled. "I really wish I did not have to."

**xxx**

Snow caked against the window sill in a ceaseless dance against the wind, and Regulus stared back down at his Potions essay irritably. Spots of ink blotched the margins where Regulus had carelessly spilled ink, lost in thought. Twice already he had to use the siphoning charm after knocking over the little ink pot.

He'd been straining himself to concentrate and try to get the last of his Christmas work done before term resumed, but every few minutes Regulus's ears would perk at the softest rustle, the shallowest sound in the wind, thinking them to be the sound of wings at the window or footsteps at the door. The latter was more often true.

Potter's scribbled note was now a tidy pile of ash in Regulus's fireplace, and he glanced at it with disdain. He'd been foolish to owl Regulus. It was luck that Regulus had intercepted the owl before his mother or any of the elves could get their hands on it, and immediately cast in the fire once he read the note.

What could Potter be thinking? Surely Sirius had warned him against sending owls, especially what had happened the last time an owl came for him. Surely Sirius did not want a repeat of the night he left their home.

The note did carry worry, though, and Regulus was anxious…he'd been waiting for days for an opportune moment to leave, to stop by and see Sirius…was he still asleep? Would the cursed potion stay within Sirius for the rest of his natural life? Regulus began asking Kreacher every morning how his health was, and to his relief Kreacher reported improvement by the day, though Regulus knew weakness still resided in him. Yet elfin magic was vastly different than wizard magic, and it was uncertain how Sirius would recover in comparison…

"Shall Kreacher add more wood to the fire?" Kreacher asked, suddenly appearing in the room.

Regulus looked away from the fireplace irritably. "It's fine. Sweep the ashes from the fireplace at dinner. I'll sleep easier knowing that rubble is gone forever."

"As Master wishes," Kreacher bowed deeply. His head still lowered, Kreacher continued, "Kreacher thought it prudent to inform Master Regulus that his friend from school is walking to the manor as we speak."

Regulus's elbow slipped off the desk. Jerking to the window, Regulus hissed through his teeth. "I can't see—who is it, Kreacher! Blast it all," Regulus threw open the door and bound for the stairs.

He could hear the tinkling of the old record player in the drawing room and his father's dry, wheezy cough through the walls, and knew he would be able to sneak to down the hall to the front door without detection. If it was Potter he'd strangle the idiot—but Regulus felt it could not be him, and as he cracked the door open his fears were abated.

"Damn you, Scabior, I told you I can't come out!" Regulus said harshly and allowed Scabior to rush through.

"Sod it," Scabior snapped, shivering. "Haven't heard from you for weeks, you can't blame me for checking on you! 'Specially after what happened this time last year with Sirius—"

"It's not like that," Regulus gritted his teeth. "It's not like last year at all." He noticed Scabior continued to shiver, who shrugged.

"Frostier than a snowman's bottom today?" Scabior said cheerfully, cupping his gloved hands together and blowing on them. "Look, I know your mum don't care for me much, but she can't be mad for too long. Besides, you've been stuck here for weeks."

"With good reason," Regulus scowled. "She wasn't happy you never responded to her letter asking where I was. Thanks again for covering for me," Regulus added, his glare fading briefly. "Father is still unwell, and it's improper for me to leave while he's in such a condition." Regulus muttered under his breath, "Not that I haven't tried."

Scabior nodded. "To see your brother." At Regulus's glare, Scabior added, "What? 'S the last thing you told me."

Regulus opened his mouth to respond, but stilled when he heard a noise come from the drawing room. They stood frozen in the hallway, neither daring to breathe. Only when he heard his father speaking faintly to his mother did Regulus relax. "We shouldn't talk about this here," Regulus glanced above Scabior's shoulder and motioned past him. "Follow me."

With as much stealth as two teenaged boys could muster, they trekked past the hall and to the staircase noiselessly. Regulus cast a wary glance at the drawing room. The record player was off, letting them hear the extent of Regulus's parents' voices.

"She doesn't sound too happy," Scabior muttered under his breath. Walburga's stern voice was unmistakable.

Regulus turned away. "Keep going."

They reached his bedroom and Regulus shut the door behind him quietly. Scabior wandered to the bed and collapsed down, the act coming as naturally to him as if he'd done it a hundred times before, and kicked off his boots to sit cross-legged. Regulus sat beside him, leaning against the wall wearily.

Scabior glanced at Kreacher, who was sweeping ashes from the fireplace, and nodded. "Wotcher."

Kreacher glanced at Scabior and did a small bow by custom, though he did not look happy to do so.

Scabior snorted. "Still doesn't like me."

"To be fair, he hardly likes anyone," Regulus couldn't help but smile. "He only seems to tolerate me better than the rest of my family—or humanity, for that matter."

"That's because it's _you_ ," Scabior scoffed, yawning wide. "What's not to like?"

Regulus fell silent. Scabior cleared his throat. "So, what's going on with your dad? He sick?"

Regulus shrugged half-heartedly. "Honestly? I haven't a damn clue. He's been ill and healers have come and gone without much answers."

"Reckon he's getting old," said Scabior.

"Old and senile. He called me 'Sirius' the other day. Why that old cod would care about him is beyond me."

Scabior looked at Regulus hesitantly. "Wasn't—wasn't he the one who…you know…branded him?"

Regulus looked away angrily. "I try not to think about that day. Not so soon after its _anniversary_."

Scabior looked at Regulus with a mixture of frustration and helplessness. "Reg, you keep staying here, you're bloody miserable. You've got to leave this shit house, damn propriety!"

"You think I haven't tried? It's not so easy, living here with this family is not _easy._ These last few weeks have been…"

He trailed, lost in thought. Scabior observed him wordlessly, and for a while the only sound that came was Kreacher's sweeping. "You know…you never did explain what happened the night you disappeared. Or why you were with Sirius. Frankly I'd like to know what I covered you for."

Regulus looked slowly to Scabior. " _You_ never mentioned you taught Granger the fiendfyre counter curse."

Scabior looked taken aback. His mouth opened and closed, until settling on a simple, "What?"

"Fiendfyre. She can put it out." He stared at Scabior for a moment. "That day at Hogsmeade, when you got Granger out of the Shrieking Shack—she was the one to put out the fire, wasn't she? I always assumed it'd been you, but…"

"It was her," Scabior agreed. "I taught her the counter curse the day before."

"Why?"

Scabior shrugged. "Boredom. Curiosity. She helped with my essays and kicked Mulciber's ass once without laying a finger on him. Color me intrigued."

"And that convinced you to passed down your family legacy to her?" said Regulus, looking at Scabior with disbelief. "A muggleborn—a _Gryffindor?_ Your family will kill you if they find out, you know."

Scabior narrowed his eyes. "My reasons are my own. What's it matter if she's muggleborn or a Gryffindor? You seem to like her enough for the both of us."

Regulus colored. "I don't fancy her, if that's what you're saying," he retorted hotly.

"Whatever. And I'm not completely daft; I did it so she'd never be able to teach someone the counter curse. You can safely untwist your knickers."

Regulus's glared at Scabior, but it faded as realization dawned on him. "Wait…seriously? A blood seal?" Scabior nodded. "Granger _agreed_ to that?"

"Practically forced me into it," Scabior looked at Regulus rather smugly. "Even came up with the idea before I could get a word in."

Regulus paused at this. Why would Hermione suggest to use such a binding and archaic form of magic—and with Scabior, a boy whom she hardly had to have known at the time? He did not need to guess why she needed to learn the counter curse, knowing now that it was her method of destroying the horcruxes. How long had she been planning this? Was this why she'd chosen to get close to Scabior? Regulus admitted the pair never made much sense to him—not that the tentative alliance between himself and Hermione made any sense either. He never truly considered Hermione Granger a friend, more a curiosity and a means to an end—but that was before Sirius left, before Regulus bore the mark of a Death Eater…before he helped destroy the soul fragment of the same man whom he'd sworn his allegiance to.

"Look I get it," Scabior's voice snapped Regulus from his thoughts. "You don't want to talk and I'm putting you in trouble just being here. Just wanted to see how you were doing, is all." He started to get up.

"What are you talking about? Stop," Scabior had only shifted a few inches before Regulus's hand wrapped around his arm. Scabior stilled. "I'm sorry, alright? I haven't got a clue what I'm doing either so don't—don't leave just yet."

Scabior settled back on the bed, waiting.

"I don't even know where to begin," Regulus muttered, looking more miserable than Scabior had seen him in months. "But—but I feel if I don't say anything at all, I will burst in front of You-Know-Who himself and be killed on the spot." He pounded on the mattress in frustration. "These secrets! They're eating me alive like a blasted flobberworm! I hate them!"

Scabior looked alarmed. "Mate, you better tell me everything right the fuck now. You and I both know you're shit at this alone." After a second's hesitation, Scabior placed his hand over Regulus's. "You've kept this to yourself for too long. You can tell me."

And so, with some exclusions, Regulus did just that.

He spoke uninterrupted for nearly fifteen minutes. Scabior sat back, his eyes wide and jaw slackened. "Fucking. Hell."

Regulus smiled. But before he could get another word in he winced painfully, a gasp escaping him.

"What? What is it?" asked Scabior, alarmed. Regulus clutched at his forearm, and shoved back his sleeve.

The Mark was burning deep into Regulus's skin.

**xxx**

Several miles away at that very moment, Hermione leveled her gaze at the room full of marauders.

When she sat before James, Remus, and Peter, telling them the rehearsed tale she'd gone over with Sirius—finding artifacts that would weaken Voldemort if destroyed, and then regaling an abridged version of the events of the cave—Sirius sat beside her, a silent presence; a warmth she needed only to glance at and he would inch very slightly closer, but only just. He was mindful of their space, of the way she tensed if anyone came too close—she had explained to him again out of guilt why she did not want to be touched, at least not yet—not while the Inferi still came to her in her dreams, their cold, clammy embrace rapidly suffocating her—but he had eased her worry, and just as simply kept a mindful distance.

And now, in the wake of telling Peter, James, and Remus the half-truth she was willing to tell, he was doing it again.

Peter and Remus were first to start. Throughout Hermione's tale they were perplexed and shocked, and when she finally finished the loud words had begun.

James was marginally quieter, absorbing Hermione's words pensively, and darting glances at Sirius as if to confirm. Hermione did not miss the little nods Sirius always gave back, as if to say _yes, bloody hell, but yes_.

"This is madness," Peter kept shaking his head, his voice bordering hysterical, "you—you—that's dangerous—and Sirius—hurt—you can't keep—keep—keep—"

Remus rested his hand on Peter's shoulder, and took over. "I agree," he said solemnly at Hermione, whose eyes were trained on her knees. Sirius kept glancing worriedly at Hermione. "This is too dangerous. Like it or not you're just schoolkids—why not tell Dumbledore? He could take over and leave you out of it. This isn't your responsibility…and Hermione…." His tone went soft, understanding. "Look what they did to your parents. Do you—"

"Thank you for your input," Hermione said suddenly, though her tone remained even and exceedingly polite. "I've told them they don't need to involve themselves with my problems, but if they volunteer I can't stop them. Clearly I've tried. My work is my own, and I'm sorry, but it has to be done. You will _not_ ," Hermione's eyes flashed warningly at Remus, "tell Dumbledore. I won't have it. Now, I'm tired. I'll see you at dinner, if you stay that long."

Hermione stood quickly and left the room. Her feet bound up the stairs, and with each successive step her composure decayed, until she had closed the door to her room and pressed her back against it.

Sirius's eyes followed Hermione as she left, his mouth pressed in a grim line.

Remus was dismayed. "What was…that?" He glanced at James. "Was it something I said?"

"She didn't want to do this," Sirius said quietly, sighing as he glanced up at the ceiling. "It's been a difficult few weeks for her. Especially her."

"From what I just heard she's not the only one," said Remus, his voice soft but the trace of annoyance was unmistakable. "Sirius. This is madness. You don't really believe that this is—this is right, do you? Collecting objects that can weaken You-Know-Who if destroyed—I cannot honestly believe such items exist."

"Dark magic," said James. His voice was hushed, still. He had not spoken throughout Hermione's tale, but seemed to have finally found his voice. James looked at Sirius, as if trying to pry the truth from his eyes. "Old magic. All but forgotten. Only the very old, ancient families would have the faintest idea of such magic."

"Yes," said Sirius, his eyes trained carefully on James's knowing look. "The darkest magic."

James fell silent, looking visibly disturbed.

Peter spoke up hesitantly. "H-how did she even find out about these things? How does she know where they are?"

Sirius shook his head.

"She's putting herself and others in danger by pursuing this," Remus said angrily, clearly unwilling to let it go. Sirius glared at Remus.

"You haven't a clue what that girl has done for the wizarding world," said Sirius calmly, his grey eyes turning cold. "It took a lot of courage just telling you three this much, and you're throwing it back in her face! Unbelievable."

"That's not fair," said James. "We're worried. And you two—plus your brother—nearly died. I think we've got a right to care for your safety. This isn't a prank or a spat with a Slytherin; you're meddling in something you'll be murdered for."

"We're already in a war," said Sirius, and he stood abruptly. "Next year you'll be fighting it. We're old enough to know what's right. _This_ is right."

Sirius looked at the three of them sitting on the sofa, all wearing identical looks of disbelief. As if repulsed, Sirius left the room and bound for the stairs.

He paused before Hermione's bedroom. Pursing his lips, he knocked twice.

The door swung open and Hermione's surprised face greeted him. "Sirius?"

Several emotions flitted across Sirius's face, his mouth parting with words stuck in his throat; she assumed he came to console her or vent with her, to presumably discuss what had just transpired.

But instead, all Sirius said was, "D'you want to get a motorcycle with me?"

**xxx**

They dressed quickly. Hermione couldn't believe she'd be witnessing this—the motorcycle! The very one she'd heard about ages ago, the one Hagrid told stories of, when he brought baby Harry to his aunt and uncle's doorstep. Hermione had never given it more thought than that, but as she pulled on her gloves and jammed a woolen hat on her head, she was brimming with excitement.

To some level Hermione knew he only invited her to make her feel better; hatched this plan in the spur-of-the-moment. Not that she minded, considering how their conversation with James, Peter, and Remus had went a half hour earlier.

Nevermind the illogicality behind their day trip—how does one even go about purchasing a motorcycle?—but for the first time in a while Hermione did not worry about the finer details. This was Sirius's day, and he was welcome to work it all out himself.

Pocketing her wand, Hermione marched to Sirius's bedroom and knocked twice. When no answer came, she knocked again, harder. "Sirius? Are you ready?"

The door opened suddenly and the blood drained from Hermione's face. "So you're not ready."

"I can't—put this—sweater on—could you help me?" Sirius wrestled with a large winter green sweater that was halfway on his shoulders, leaving the bottom half of his torso bare.

"Er…yes. Of course." Hermione grabbed the sweater off his head and straightened it, holding it out before her. Squinting, she muttered, "Are you sure it's not charmed?"

"Charmed? Why the hell would I need a charmed sweater?" Sirius groused, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I've no idea, but if you would observe…" Hermione stuck her hand through the sweater, making to extend it through the neck, but it shrunk smaller and smaller as Hermione fought to put her hand through.

Sirius's gaze darkened. " _James._ " He snatched the sweater from Hermione and stalked back inside his room. Hermione dared only to take a step in. "He gave this last Christmas—I see now why he wanted me to wear it in front of him. A prank sweater."

"Be grateful it doesn't shrink while your head is actually _through_ it," said Hermione loftily. Sirius gave a sour look as he shoved on a black sweater instead and dressed quickly.

"Let's go," Sirius ushered her to the door and closed it behind him. They stood in the hallway for a moment as Sirius put on his gloves, his fingers flexing through the fabric. Hermione looked away again, not knowing why she had to, but didn't really want to question the instinct.

James was sitting with textbook on his lap when they came downstairs. He looked up, his eyes flickering to their changed clothing. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah, we're gonna poke about a few shops for a bit. Did they leave?" Sirius glanced where Remus and Peter had sat.

James nodded. "They'll be back for dinner, though."

"You want to come with us?" Sirius asked, glancing at Hermione as if in question. Hermione shrugged. "It's for the bike."

James's eyes sparked with excitement. "Did you pick one out already?"

Sirius pressed his lips together, as if unsure. "Eh…I'm going with the second idea."

Just as quickly the excitement in James's eyes dimmed, and Hermione became greatly curious at what the second idea could possibly be when James returned to his book with disinterest. "I think I'll skip, then. You two have fun."

Sirius shrugged. "Suit yourself. The fireplace, Hermione."

"Oh," said, Hermione, surprised, and went to take a handful of Floo powder off the mantle. "Where're we going? I could Apparate us there if you like?"

"Nah, it's better to go this way. You'll see. Diagon Alley, if you please."

Nodding, Hermione cast the powder into the fire and was transported to a large dusty grate. Before her was the Leaky Cauldron's brick entrance, though it was sealed at the moment. She heard the sound of a distantly roaring fire and quickly Hermione stepped out of the grate, just barely missing a clash with Sirius's body. They dusted themselves off quickly and Sirius took out his wand, heading for the brick wall.

"But that's to muggle London," Hermione protested. Sirius flashed wry smile.

"And so it is we go," he replied easily, and started to tap the bricks.

Hermione scrunched her nose as the loud bar music blared in her ears. The dim lighting of the Leaky Cauldron always bothered her, and her eyes had to adjust to the change while Sirius maneuvered them to the exit.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Hermione asked irritably, rubbing her eyes as they made yet another turn down an alley.

"Not the foggiest," said Sirius cheerfully, but he cleared his throat at Hermione's dark stare. "Yeah, I've got an idea. It's not—not conventional, but I'm hoping I'll come across it…took me ages trying to find a good muggle paper with these types of shops in their listing…"

Hermione's curiosity—and dismay—only increased further as they veered away from the busy parts of town. They now walked on a desolate street, this part of London looking weary and weather-worn, and the sidewalks less polished. Sirius's pace grew faster and Hermione tried to keep up with him. They were getting closer.

Sirius gave a low grunt and slowed a bit, grimacing. Hermione touched his arm worriedly. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," said Sirius. The frown did not go away. "Just walked a bit too fast there."

"You're still healing," Hermione murmured. Sirius shrugged, and reluctantly Hermione let it drop.

After several more minutes of walking in silence, Sirius came to a stop.

"There it is," Sirius pointed with a relieved smile. "Oh, it's a beauty."

Hermione glanced at Sirius, deadpanned. "It's a junk shop."

"It's a bargain!" a man came out of a large garage, his arms spread open in greeting. "Are you the lad I spoke with over the phone a few days ago asking for parts?"

"That's me," Sirius smiled serenely, holding out his hand. The man shook it vigorously.

"Excellent, excellent. Well have a look around, don't just stand there! We've got handles, exhaust pipes, brakes, gear shifts, even some vintage pieces stashed in the back if I remember…."

"You have the Norton models I asked after?" Sirius asked, not looking away from a sign that was propped up next to the garage.

"Y…yes, but they're quite a bit older…young man like yourself would probably prefer our newer additions—"

"Let's have a look the Nortons, then," Sirius looked up, smiling kindly. The man's grin shrank a few molars, but he inclined his head graciously and gestured them to follow. Hermione exchanged a wary glance with Sirius, who seemed infuriatingly unfazed.

He brought them to a smaller garage. The pavement was riddled with cracks and fissures, and against a crumbling wall were several motorcycles—at least, they once were motorcycles. What stood before them now were the bare skeletal remains of a _possible_ , plausible machine. Nearly all of them did not have tires—they didn't have much of anything, frankly—but Sirius seemed to take this in stride and was beaming at the paltry collection.

"Brilliant," Sirius looked elatedly at Hermione, grinning so earnestly that Hermione fought the urge to laugh. "Gods, how will I get through all of these before dark?"

"I wonder how we'll manage," Hermione said vaguely, thinking of James again. She needed to start crediting his wisdom…

"I have customers to attend to now. If you need anything just shout for Calimocho and I'll be back, quick as lightning!" Sirius and Hermione nodded, and the man—Calimocho, apparently—left the small garage. Sirius glanced at Hermione, biting his lower lip.

"Would you mind helping me?"

"Of course!" Hermione rolled up her coat sleeves as far as they would go, wringing out her fingers. "Just tell me what you need."

Sirius's eyes lighted, and she could feel his eagerness as if it were a tangible energy, and all she'd need to do was stretch her fingers and twine them through it.

"Well," he patted his hands on the front of his jeans, trying to gather his thoughts. He glanced about the bikes. "Well, we're looking for something sturdy. It doesn't so much matter how little parts are on it or how old they are. If they're not rusted, if they seem like they can handle themselves, they're good enough."

"Okay," Hermione nodded, looking at the row of bikes in a new light. "Sounds simple enough."

Sirius nodded. "Right. Sadly we won't be able to gather everything we need today, but it's a start."

"I was just wondering, why are you building the motorcycle on your own?" asked Hermione, unable to hide her curiosity any longer. "You were looking through those magazines before, I remember. Weren't any of those good?"

A secretive smile crept on Sirius's face. "Oh, they were," he replied slyly. "But there are benefits in building some things on your own rather than purchase what's in stock. For instance," Sirius gestured at the bikes. "This'll be a hell of a lot cheaper."

"Right," Hermione shook her head, smiling. "Let's get to it, then."

For the next hour they sorted through the motorcycles bits. It was marginally more difficult as they could not use magic, especially since the shop owner kept popping in to check on them, but it did not bother Hermione all that much. She could tell Sirius was struggling however; he was badly out of breath and kept stopping to lean against the wall, ducking his head. Hermione could tell he wasn't fully healed yet, but Sirius seemed incapable of giving his body any more rest. If he felt poorly, he never said a word of complaint.

She wiped the beads of sweat on her forehead away with the back of her sleeve and hauled another bike piece away from the row against the wall, grunting with the effort. Stepping back, she inspected it with a frown and compared it to the discarded pieces.

"Anything yet?" Sirius called. Hermione said nothing as she stared down at the bike. She felt the air shift around her and Sirius was now by her side, peering down at the bike with her.

"Blimey," was all he said.

"That's what I was thinking too," Hermione nodded.

Sirius let out a huff. "I found two potential ones but compared to _this…_ "

Hermione looked over to where Sirius had been working and saw the two he'd picked out.

"Those two aren't bad," she said hesitantly.

Sirius glanced at her. Quietly, he replied, "Which do you like best?"

Hermione glanced up at him and bit her lip, looking at the bikes seriously. She then looked at him, smiling hopefully.

Something in Sirius's eyes softened. "My new motorcycle."

**xxx**

James stared at them blankly. They were out of breath and covered with dirt, sharing identical broad grins.

"Dad will most definitely kick your arse if you ever bring this stuff into the house."

"What do you think?" said Hermione. Sirius snorted next to her and she grinned even wider until her cheeks started to hurt.

"You're both mad. I want the first ride when it's done."

"Sorry mate," Sirius shook his head, slinging his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "That's reserved for her. Since she came with me, she's got first priority."

James made a face. "I need to Floo Peter and Remus. They need to see this."

**xxx**

The holidays were nearing an end and Charlus and Dorea were still not back. Hermione began asking James several times a day whether they had owled or mentioned when they would come home, but James pressed his lips and shook his head each time.

Hermione could tell he was even more worried than she was. Why had they disappeared so suddenly, without explanation? It was unlike them…it had to be something of great importance for them to be away for so long…

"My hand's cramping again, shit," Sirius muttered next to her. Hermione glanced at him and saw him clenching his hand, putting down the socket wrench he'd been using just moments ago.

"I told you not to overwork it," Hermione scowled. "You've been at this for hours and hours each day. There's no hurry."

"I can't focus on anything else until it's done," Sirius said grimly. "I'm sorry, I can't help it."

Hermione sighed. "Get those wrappings from the kit and tie it around your hand. I'll finish the rest of this part and then we're _taking a break_."

Sirius nodded gratefully and stood. Hermione slipped off the stool she'd been sitting on and took Sirius's place, kneeling on the pavement and picking up the wrench. It was easy enough to follow, and both Sirius and Hermione were relatively new to building mechanical parts, so for the last few days they'd thrown themselves into building the bike from the ground up. Hermione liked the challenge and welcomed the distraction—she ignored Sirius's protests that she didn't need to help him, saying she had nothing else to do anyway. Gritting her teeth, Hermione began her work.

"I never thought how useful a garage would be until now," Sirius noted idly as he plopped himself onto the stool. "Feels a bit weird doing this in the backyard."

"Be grateful we're not doing it in front of the house anymore," Hermione grunted as she yanked down on the wrench until it turned no more. "The stares we got, you'd think we were building some sort of weapon!"

"Right?" Sirius's lip curled distastefully. "Our folk need to get out more, honestly."

"They do. Okay so the enchantments now, right?"

"Right," Sirius jumped to his feet and took out his wand. Hermione held out her hand.

"I can do it, don't worry," Hermione gave a look. Sirius blinked.

"It's alright, Hermione. I feel bad as it is for making you do my work."

"Sirius."

Sirius grimaced, then put his wand away. "Fine." Hermione smiled triumphantly and raised her wand. "Three times, remember."

"I remember," Hermione reassured, then focused back on the motorcycle. She pointed her wand steadily. " _Potestas. Potestas. Potestas._ "

Three golden threads swirled from the tip of Hermione's wand and slithered around the motorcycle. The light spread, glittering gold until it encompassed the bike entirely. It blazed for a moment, then disappeared.

Hermione put away her wand, looking proud. "See? I am perfectly capable—"

They both froze. A loud noise was coming from inside the house.

Hermione looked to Sirius. "The Potters?" Sirius suggested. Without wasting any time, they bolted inside the house.

The foyer was empty, as were the rooms on the first floor. Puzzled, they followed the sound as it came and went, until the sound was clearer and distinctively familiar…they went back into the parlor and paused, waiting.

"Here!"

Hermione jolted. "The fireplace. It came from the fireplace," Hermione and Sirius rushed towards it. A head was bobbing in the flames frantically.

"Regulus!" Sirius exclaimed. "What're you—"

"He knows!" Regulus shouted, glancing behind him as if someone were watching him. "He knows! He called a meeting—he knows! You're not safe, don't do anything more—he—" His head disappeared briefly. Hermione's heart thudded wildly, and glanced at Sirius. Fear rippled through her and she felt like any minute she would vomit.

Regulus's head appeared again. "Let me through," he said urgently. "Unseal it so I can get through, I can get away for a few minutes—"

"I-I don't know how!" said Sirius, looking at the fireplace frustratedly. "Hermione do you—?"

Hermione shook her head helplessly. Regulus began shouting again.

"Let me through! My side's open, I just need to get in—"

"I can go to you," Sirius realized. "Our side is one-way, so we can go but you can't come in. If your fireplace is open I can get to you."

Regulus's head disappeared suddenly. Sirius grabbed a fistful of Floo powder off the mantle and stepped to the grate. Hermione caught his arm.

"Sirius, no! You can't go there, it's not safe!"

"I have to. Didn't you hear what he said? I have to know—I'll just be a minute."

"He's gone, Sirius! He didn't say if it was okay or not, for all you know this could be a trap. Just _wait_. You're not thinking clearly."

Sirius was already shaking his head hard. "I'm sorry." Throwing the powder in the fireplace, Sirius shouted, "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!"

Sirius spun around in the fireplace until he landed hard, his knees giving way. Coughing, Sirius stumbled to his feet and stepped out of the grating. It was only too familiar to him—he was in the Black library.

"Ahem."

Sirius stiffened. Turning slowly, Sirius felt the blood drain from his face.

"Mother."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I realize it’s been ages, and I’m sorry. Hopefully this update makes it a little better. I suppose this obliterates my hopes of completing this fanfic by January, so now I’ll just say it’ll be finished whenever it can be finished, though not very much is left if that’s any consolation.
> 
> I don’t have much to comment on for this chapter just yet. I hope you liked it! It was rewritten about four times and heavily edited, so that’s partly why it takes so long getting these chapters out.
> 
> A massive thanks to _hinatas_ for being such an incredible beta. Her quick wit, good eye, and relentless encouragement make this fic what it is today.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and giving this fic a chance! Please let me know what you thought, I read and respond to each one!
> 
> Until chapter 24 xx


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